Bridge Over the Abyss
by roku kyu
Summary: Tragedy sends a young magician down the paths of darkness-until he encounters a mysterious traveler in time and space. Epilogue. Hidden Paths: "I will find you again, Shouryuu...then make you weep tears of blood."
1. The storm

**Bridge Over the Abyss **by roku kyu

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

This story begins approximately six years _before_ Miaka's appearance in the Universe of the Four Gods and is a prequel to the story "White Stones in the Moonlight." This storyline ignores the events laid out in Chichiri's Gaiden novel Shouryuu Den, and so may be considered "Alternate Universe"... although it will join up again with canon Fushigi Yuugi as depicted in the anime series. This is also a crossover with the science fiction series "Doctor Who." I have taken care to clearly draw and define the character of the Doctor so that one need _not _be familiar with Doctor Who to understand this story. Oh, and it's also unnecessary to be familiar with "White Stones" either.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes and violence, and sexual content.

Musical selection: "Awakening" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon," copyright 2002, Universal Music AS, Norway.

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Chapter 1. The storm.

The rain beat down upon him, sluicing through his hair, running down his face like endless streams of tears. Let it rain. He had no more tears left to cry, so let the dark and weeping skies grieve in his stead. Let the heavens open, let them release their raging sorrow at the bitterness of the world below, as they had scant days ago. Let the skies and the winds and the waters drown him in their fury, finishing the job they had left half-done.

Let them take his life. Let them snuff out the pathetic, guttering flame of his existence, granting him the dignity of death instead of this mockery of a half-life which he now endured.

Half-life. Half-death. Half-man, half-boy with only half of a face, a bloody bandage covering the area where once his left eye had gazed out at the world with trust and joy, he was now sitting half-naked in the blackened ruins of his home, his knees drawn up to his bare chest. One of the few survivors left in this ruin of the little village that sat on the banks of the Kouga river in northern Konan.

Survivor. What bitter irony in that word. What bitterness in this great celestial joke, that_ he _should survive, he who had nothing to live for. All around him lay the bodies of people who had every reason to live--husbands, wives, children, lovers--all dead, their hopes and dreams dead beside them whilst he, with no hope and no reason for living, still drew breath. Still breathing, still feeling, still shivering with cold as the rain fell upon him, gentler now that the monsoon had passed. Only half a storm left to rain down on his pathetic half-life.

What dark humor drove the gods to allow him to survive? A murderer like him left living and breathing, while better men than he floated by the score in the still raging waters of the river, tumbled over and over by the swirling current, seeming to wave their hands in macabre cheerfulness as they passed the shores of the ruined village. Murderer was almost too romantic and masculine a word for the likes of him.

A half-man for so long...and he never even knew it. She must have been so sickened by him, all those months of their betrothal. She must have ground her teeth in revulsion as he took her hand, showered her with flowers and little gifts, pressed her close to his eager body…she must have closed her eyes in disgust as he seized her lips, all the time dreaming of the one she truly loved. No, wait; that wasn't right. Even in the depths of his bitterness, he knew that he was being unfair to her. She wasn't like that, his Kouran. She was the sweetest, gentlest of girls; he knew her, he had known her for practically all of their lives. At least, he thought that he'd known her. He thought that she felt the same towards him as he had towards her, those gentle feelings of friendship blossoming over the years into passionate love. He thought she'd been as joyful as he when their parents finally negotiated the terms of their betrothal. He thought her heart had beaten as rapidly as his that one day in the woods, when he'd turned to her and suddenly taken her in his arms…

He had thought wrong. He had _believed_ the words that she had spoken to him over the years, believing them to be her true and honest feelings, when all along, she was merely being kind and pitying. That was her nature. She could no more deliberately hurt him than she could pull the wings off a butterfly. He could still see tears dropping onto mat beneath her as she bowed before him, stammering out the truth at last: that she could no longer go through with their betrothal. Those were tears of real sorrow that she had cried, aching for the heartbreak she knew she was bringing to him. She had called herself unworthy of him, all the while pitying him in his stunned disbelief, in his blind confusion. She had pitied him… and in so doing, she had unmanned him.

He'd burst into tears like a child, burst into tears at her rejection of him and his love, broken down sobbing when he found out that her rejection had to do with the man who had been best friend to them both. He had seen her lift her stricken face from the mat at the sound of his grief--and he'd fled in humiliation, unable to bear the pity in her eyes. He'd heard her call his name, but he couldn't stop running and weeping, running into the torrential downpour of the violent storm, running as if he could flee all his heartbreak if only he could run fast enough and far enough. He'd run, not knowing where he was going, not caring, only needing to get away. And as he ran, the cold hand of rage began to grip his aching heart.

Yes, he had nowhere to run--because they had left him nowhere to go. They were his only friends, and now he had no one. How they must have pitied him, concealing their love affair until they could find the right time to let him know about the two of them. And beneath that pity lurked their contempt for him: for his blindness, his innocence, his stupid happy trust in their love for him. How they'd played him for the fool he was! He clenched his fists and shouted his rage into the thundering skies; he shrieked his betrayal into the whistling wind. He howled like a madman, soaked to the skin and battered by the storm, the wind driving him until he ended up standing before an all-too-familiar door.

The door that led into the house where he had spent so many happy times, first as a child playing, then as a young man chatting, laughing, dreaming dreams of the world which opened before them. This, the home of his best friend, Hikou, in whom he had confided all his hopes for the future, with whom he had made plans for the happy life that lay ahead of the three of them. Friends forever, he'd declared, vowing that not even marriage would come between the closeness they all shared. Just recently, seeing the shadows that darkened his friend's eyes, he'd announced that he and Kouran must find a wife for Hikou, so that they could all raise their children to play and laugh and love together, just as the three of them had loved.

He let out a bark of bitter laughter at the memory of his gullibility, a laugh that sounded more like a sob. How painfully stupid he had been. How laughable, how pathetic. In that storm, he raised his fists and beat them against the door in helpless rage, in seething fury at how they had humiliated him. And then, the door had swung open.

There he stood, his best friend, eyes reddened, a flask of sake in his grip. He stood there as if he had been waiting all this time for that furious pounding on his door, as if he had anticipated this moment for years. In his memory, he lunged at his former friend, screaming his betrayal. "How could you take her from me? How could you lie to me, day after day, about the two of you? You _liar_, you _bastard! _You only pretended to be my friend while you took her love for yourself!"

He had seen Hikou's eyes widen in disbelief before narrowing in resentment. "Why shouldn't she be mine?" Hikou had howled back at him. "I've known her just as long as you have--and loved her first!"

That had stopped him, silenced him in shock. Hikou and Kouran…first? Then why had she ever agreed to marry him, Ri Houjun, a poor fatherless boy? What had possessed her to raise his hopes, to pretend to return his shy and hesitant affection? His mouth turned down in bitterness. What did it matter in the end? In the end, she couldn't bring herself to go through with the lie, and so here he stood, bitter and betrayed and made to look every inch the fool he was. The rage took hold of him as he took hold of Hikou, and the next thing he knew, they were both out in the storm, screaming and striking at one another, their wild blows connecting only occasionally.

They fought past the houses until they ended up at the outskirts of the village, the muddy waters of the river roaring and swirling as they rose above the confines of the riverbank. The two young men grappled near the edge, then pulled apart, their former love for one another now eclipsed by their mutual fury, as they panted and glared at one another through the downpour.

Houjun screamed out his betrayal and rage and confusion once more. "_Why? _Why did you have to take her from me? You could've had any girl you wanted! She was mine, mine by right and by law!"

Hikou's eyes at first flashed with pain but then narrowed in anger. "Why _should _she belong to you? You're not even a real man! You, with your soft words and gentle ways, with your gathering of flowers and herbs--you're more of a woman than a man! How could you know _how_ to be a man, with no father to guide you? All you know are your conjuring tricks, your pointless little magical illusions, useful only for entertaining children. Why shouldn't she choose a _real_ man like me? I could bring her everything you never could! How could a half-man like you even protect her?"

That was it. The last of his reason deserted Houjun, as he drew the dagger that he always carried on his belt. The dagger he used to cut clusters of mushrooms from mossy logs, to peel back medicinal barks, to sever the woody stems of wild roses--this dagger he now used to slash at the man he once loved as a brother.

Hikou had jumped back in shock, his dark eyes widening in disbelief at the murderous intent of his former friend. One foot slipped back over the edge of the bank of the raging river. Time seemed to stand still as he teetered on the edge of the world, balanced precariously between life and death--and then...

_Enough!_ snarled Houjun mentally, the chill rain bringing him back to the present. _Enough with the damn memories!_ he raged silently at the gods he once respected and revered. _Kill me now, or show me why you keep me breathing...but I will no longer be your plaything! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just walk down to that hell-driven river and join in the dead men's dance in its depths. Give me just one reason why I should fall in with your plans!_

At that moment, he felt it. Forceful, dark, more powerful than any he had ever felt before, this ki was also shielded nearly to the point of being undetectable--but that was one of his own useless little powers: the power to detect the weakest or most carefully hidden life force. His face creased in grief, the image hitting him like a blow. That was how he knew they were dead when he found them clinging to one another, appearing to sleep in each other's arms... Once more, he forced back the bitter memories. He wanted to retreat back into his semi-conscious state, he wanted only to die, but his endless curiosity would not allow him to rest. He lifted his face and sent out a quiet search for that powerful ki--and found it heading straight towards him, as if homing in on his own particular ki.

Houjun felt a sudden impulse to hide, to shield his own ki while skittering away, circling around to spy in turn on this being who seemed to seek him out. But why bother? If this creature meant him harm, if it meant to kill him, why not just let it happen? Isn't that what he craved, his own death? And if it was bloody and painful, wasn't that what he deserved? No, he wasn't going to hide from this dark force. If nothing else, he would finally assuage the endless curiosity that drove him throughout his existence, both in his happy past and now in his dark despair.

The creature with the powerful life force paused, detecting Houjun's own questing ki. Houjun detected a faint feeling of surprise in the creature before it moved towards him again, more determined than ever to find him. Houjun squinted through the falling rain, trying to see it with his one remaining eye, his vision blurred from the infection raging in the remains of his shattered left eye. He could only make out a dark shape that loomed up before him, towering above him. Houjun blinked, his vision clearing momentarily, long enough to show him that the creature had the shape of a man, a tall man wrapped in a long hooded cloak--yet he could see no face within the hood, only blackness. His heart leapt up in fear, but he again suppressed it, calming his ki into a passive acceptance of his impending death at the hands of this demon.

The demon tilted his head as he regarded the bedraggled form of the young, disfigured man, then suddenly spoke.

"Ri Houjun?" he inquired, his deep voice melodious, almost caressing.

Houjun jumped, startled that the demon would know his name. At that moment, he realized he was facing a man, not a creature of the night. He saw the man's lips curve into a smile below the darkness within the hood, and recognized that the darkness was merely a black mask which covered the man's face from his forehead down to his mouth. Houjun was momentarily ashamed at his fear of a mere mortal but remembered the dark ki emanating from this man. No, this man was no ordinary human, and Houjun would be wise to take care in dealing with him. Not realizing that his survival instincts had manifested themselves again, Houjun gave only a brief nod in acknowledgement of the man's query.

The man smiled again in appreciation of his quarry's wariness, then stooped to look into Houjun's eye. Houjun noted that the eyes behind the mask were strangely pale, a light blue color that shone almost silver, their shifting light compelling him to gaze almost hypnotically into their depths. Houjun recognized that the power sought to dominate him, so he shifted his own ki force slightly, just enough to slip past the stranger's ki in a move reminiscent of the most skilled martial artists. The silvery blue eyes widened again in surprise, then narrowed in amusement.

"Yes," the stranger rumbled in a velvety growl, "you are well worth the time I've spent seeking you out. Your talents are raw and unrefined, but your power is unmistakable. To think that you have achieved such skill with no training, on pure instinct alone...impressive," he breathed. "You are definitely the one."

Houjun's curiosity overcame his wariness. "The one...what?"

The man smiled to see that he had ensnared Houjun's attention. "The one I've been seeking. The one with the potential to make a real and lasting difference in this world. The one to lead an army of magicians against the darkness in this universe."

Houjun's heart leaped up in sudden fierce joy. He _knew_ that his powers had a purpose, he _knew_ that his gifts were leading him to a higher path! He must tell Hikou, he must tease his friend for all the gentle mockery he had suffered through the years...

His mouth suddenly turned down in bitterness. "You have the wrong man," he informed the stranger softly. "I do not fight the darkness; I am part of it. I am nothing more than a common murderer and a half-blind and disfigured one at that. I am not worthy of leading anyone...I am nobody."

He suddenly felt soft hypnotic waves of comfort wafting towards him from the stranger. "Terrible things happen," the melodious voice soothed. "And sometimes we do terrible things, things that we regret. There is not a man worthy of the name who reaches full adulthood without harboring some bitter memories, some secret shame. Should we all then lie down and wait to die? Or should we turn our energies towards atoning for our sins in the most honorable way--by risking our lives and perhaps even our souls for a higher cause?

"What do you think, Ri Houjun? Do you wish to leave this world with your only contribution the taking of another's life? Or do you wish to make a difference in the future of all the people of this world? I warn you, this path is neither easy nor safe, and you may well die in the attempt. You may suffer a painful and lonely death in this war against the forces of Darkness. At the very least, you must leave behind all that you have loved, all that you know--even your own identity, your very self. The choice must be yours, Ri Houjun, and you must make it freely from the heart."

Houjun looked into the eyes of the stranger, a fierce purpose shining out from his one remaining eye. He felt waves of fever overtaking him, beginning to burn him in their fire. "I don't know how much time I have left to live," he whispered hoarsely. "But if the gods choose that I survive, then I wish to commit myself to your cause. I have nothing to lose, no one to miss me, so if I'm fated to die for some higher purpose, then that is the path I choose. I am no one, belonging to no one, so I may as well die in the service of strangers..." His voice trailed off as his eye rolled back and he fainted, his body caught by the stranger.

The tall man lifted the slight figure of the youth, carrying him out of his village for the last time. As they passed, an old woman looked up from a group of survivors huddled around a flickering fire; the same kindly old woman who had bound up Houjun's eye and tried to soothe his despair at the loss of his family and friends. "Where are you taking him?" she quavered, frightened of the dark stranger but trying to defend the gentle boy she remembered from happier days.

The tall cloaked figure turned towards her, the pale glittering eyes behind the mask causing her to shrink back in fear.

"To his future," the deep voice rumbled gently in reply.

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**Author's Note:** (7-12-02) The fact that I'm posting this means that this site has recovered from its long illness! At least for awhile! (does the happy dance) I _really_ have to get to work on designing my own web page, so that I'll be able to post chapters of my fics if and when has other break-downs!

A-ny-way, back to this fic… I _finally_ have the chance to chat about my use of the term "ki" to describe the life force which surrounds all living creatures, a common belief in Asian philosophy (not to mention Star Wars!). I meant to address this issue in "White Stones" but kept forgetting; it sucks to have a mind like a Swiss cheese, kids!

I have studied the Chinese practice of Tai Chi as well as the Japanese martial art Aikido, both of which teach the focusing of this force, which emanates from the lower abdomen. However, in spite of incredible similarities that I have noticed between the Chinese "chi" and Japanese "ki," my aikido sensei assures me that they are two _quite different_ forces that are utilized in different ways. She is not only a fourth degree black belt in aikido, but also holds a black belt in kung fu (Chinese martial art). She explains the difference by demonstrating the way one can punch "through" a line of fifteen people using "chi" (and end up knocking down the last person in line) and saying that this is quite different from "ki." Well, being half-gaijin and an absolute beginner on top of that, I still don't get the difference between the two…but I'm going to just take her word for it. So, for the purpose of this fic (and all my other stories), I will use the term "ki" to describe this life force (the Force to all you would-be Jedi's!). Now, since the Universe of the Four Gods is based loosely on Ancient China, you may wonder why I don't use the Chinese term "chi." That's because in the original Japanese Fushigi Yuugi anime, all the characters speak Japanese (ratings in Japan likely to be fairly low if they spoke only _Chinese_ ) and they (especially Chichiri) call this force "ki." So there! Roku goes canonical for a while.

So if I'm on this canon path here, why do I ignore the events in Chichiri's pre-FY novel "Shouryuu Den"? (except for possibly borrowing the title in later chapters...you'll see). 'Cause I just don't agree with the logic (or lack thereof) of the events depicted in that novel, that's why. (Lightning strikes Roku, who subsequently blows out a puff of black smoke.) Look, it just doesn't make sense to me that Chichiri would continue on whatever path he took after the deaths of Kouran and Hikou, then suddenly, _three years later_, decide to commit suicide in grief over those events. And all those "look-alike" people who could be twins to Kouran and Hikou? Lame, really lame. Especially since he reaches some sort of peace with their memories, a peace that is oddly non-existent at the beginning of OVA 2. I also think that they make Chichiri appear to be somewhat of a dim bulb in having him travel around with Nyan-Nyan for 3 years, and only notice at the _end_ of three years that she hasn't aged from approximately seven to ten years of age. (dodges another lightning bolt) Hey, sorry, folks, but my interpretation of Chichiri doesn't depict him as the least bit stupid…maybe a little passionate and impulsive in his youth, but certainly not dim!!

So to those of you who get incredibly annoyed at my tendency to wander in and out of the canon pathway at my whim (winks at Chao-chan), I can only say…prepare to be _hugely_ annoyed! Or just accept this as an Alternative Universe fic that ties in closely with the Chichiri of "White Stones" and eventually returns to the canon anime. Oh, oh, oh, I forgot to mention: I'm also taking a detour from Nakago's Gaiden novel and changing a few events in that story, too - and I don't even know the plot of Tamahome's Gaiden novel, so it's unlikely that I'm going to stick to canon there, either. (Chao-chan begins tearing at her hair, while Roku grins unrepentantly.)

Now, in the next chapter, prepare to meet…The Doctor! (No, not Mitsukake.) The great majority of you don't know him, but don't be intimidated by this fact; he is utterly charming, and if you don't love him as much as I do by the end of this story, then I will have failed in my attempt to write an absorbing crossover. Time will tell, ne? Until next time…

Ja ne!

Roku


	2. A celestial call for help

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). The briefly mentioned character of Bernice (Benny) Summerfield is the property of Paul Cornell, novelist. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

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Chapter 2. A Celestial Call for Help

The magazines and newspapers in the kiosks adjacent to the library steps fluttered in the sudden wind. The third and fourth dimensions swirled and vibrated briefly as they stretched to accommodate the intruder forcing its way into their midst. A strange wheezing, groaning noise competed with the sounds of the traffic that flowed past the National Library in Tokyo, and a flashing blue light began to make its appearance approximately nine feet above ground level. As dimensions curved once again and reality bent to one side, the outlines of a tall rectangular box began to take shape beneath the blue light. The outline quickly filled in, as the box materialized into solidity with a resounding, clanking boom. Few people looked up to see this miracle occur, and those that did shrugged it away as a momentary hallucination, their rational minds refusing to accept the sudden appearance out of thin air of a solid object approximately eight feet tall and four feet wide on each side.

The strange foreign object held the appearance of a battered blue British police call box dating from the 1960's, a sort of phone booth that was used by citizens to call the police directly if they witnessed a crime or needed help. On the folding door was a peeling sign that still advised "Call Here For Help." After a few moments, the door opened, and an incongruous figure emerged from the interior of the box.

He was obviously _gaijin_, a Westerner from all appearances, but that was not unusual in Tokyo in this last decade of the twentieth century. No, the first thing that caught the eye was not his pale skin and eyes; it was his unusual style of dress. He was attired in clothes fashionable in the Victorian era in England, his long velvet frock coat covering an intricate paisley waistcoat and pale grey linen pants. Beneath the waistcoat, he wore a white silk shirt with a high pointed wing collar, held in place by an elegant cravat sporting a diamond stickpin. The foreigner was of medium height and appeared to be a slender man in his prime, late thirties or early forties, with strong elegant features and a forceful chin that may have seemed severe had his appearance not been softened by a full head of long wavy chestnut hair reaching past his collar in the Byronic style.

But his most noticeable features were his eyes: a vibrant sparkling blue that seemed to shade into green at odd times. Not only the color of his eyes, but their depth; if one looked carefully into his eyes when he was still and open, one might feel the passage of centuries and the weight of the knowledge of ages. Most of the time, however, he did not remain motionless and vulnerable to easy examination. Most of the time, he vibrated with suppressed excitement, seeming to burst with energy so that one could barely get a clear fix on any of his attributes.

He took a small silver shield shaped object, its surface covered with raised geometric shapes, from his waistcoat watch pocket and inserted it into the keyhole on the door, turning it to lock the entrance into the box. As he stepped away from the police box, he patted its peeling blue paint affectionately and murmured, "I hope to be back soon, my dear. This shouldn't take very long, I expect." His voice was a clear yet velvety tenor, the clipped syllables characteristic of a citizen of the British Isles, softened with the musical lilt common to the denizens of the northern cities of that island country.

An elderly woman clutching a stack of books stopped to stare at the strange foreigner who appeared to be addressing a wooden box. He looked up, becoming aware of her critical regard, and suddenly flashed a beaming smile at her. The woman stepped back distrustfully, her pile of books shifting so that they began to slide and fall to the ground. The foreigner leaped to help her, scooping up her fallen books and tucking them under his arm as he prepared to escort her into the library. The woman eyed him suspiciously, hanging back from his proffered arm. He decided that she required an explanation for his peculiar actions.

"_Gomen nasai,_" he apologized in flawless Japanese. "Please forgive my peculiar actions. You see, that box is not merely a box, but my vehicle for travelling in time and space. She is a TARDIS; in English, that stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She worries if I'm gone too long, so I try to keep her informed of the expected length of time it will take me to complete my errands."

The woman stared at the lunatic in dismay. He seemed terribly young to be suffering from dementia, but the liberal use of recreational drugs had brought many a young person to a sad state, as she recalled from her favorite news program. She also recalled that these lunatics could become violent in the blink of an eye, so she decided to humor him until she reached the safety of the interior of the library.

"Tah-disu?" she asked politely.

He beamed at her again as they climbed the steps to the library entrance. "_Hai, _TARDISU! Please forgive my poor manners. I am the Doctor, and this is my friend..." He looked around in momentary confusion, then clapped his free hand to his forehead. "I keep forgetting! My companions are on holiday for the time being. They claim that they need a holiday from me, although I can't imagine why. We always have the loveliest adventures together, although all the near-death experiences do tend to stress them out. I must keep in mind that the human psyche can be quite fragile at times."

He opened the door to the cool interior of the large library and allowed her to precede him into the lobby. He deposited her books onto the circulation desk, then bowed politely to her. "_Sayonara,_" he bid her farewell, "It has been my pleasure to speak with you."

She bowed politely back. _"Arigatou."_

He smiled, then turned and headed deeper into the interior of the library. She immediately waved a guard over, trying to get him to apprehend the demented foreigner. But the guard merely shrugged and replied that he could hardly arrest a man for the crime of carrying her books into the library as a courtesy to her. As for the foreigner's peculiar behavior, the guard explained, "_Gaijin _have strange ways, _obaa-san_. I have seen many worse than him in my years here at the library. But to accommodate your wishes, I promise to keep an eye on him."

The woman frowned at the guard's dismissal of her concerns and decided to return home without picking up any new books. She preferred to be elsewhere when the foreign lunatic pulled out a gun and began shooting at innocent bystanders, as Westerners were in the habit of doing on a regular basis in _Amerikagasshuukoku._

The Doctor climbed the narrow back stairs to the third floor of the library. He reflected briefly on his encounter with the elderly woman outside the library and grinned mischievously. It was always best to tell the truth about the TARDIS and himself to inquiring humans. Without fail, they skittered away in alarm and never pestered him with follow-up questions, unless he were unlucky enough to run into a Star Trek fanboy. Then it was one technical question after another until he was ready to scream! The Doctor shuddered at the memory, before glancing down the corridor lined with wooden doors. This section was obviously decades older than the modern airy front sections of the National Library. "Still terribly new," he murmured to himself, tracing a finger along the elaborate woodwork as he registered the strong psychic signal that had drawn him here emanating from the last door at the end of the corridor.

"References and Important Literature," he read from the sign that hung above the door and shook his head at the redundant phrasing. "I wonder where they keep the 'Unimportant Literature.'" He reached out to turn the brass doorknob, only to find it locked. He began digging through his pockets, but his attention was arrested by a crimson light shining from the keyhole. The lock gave an audible click, and the door swung open of its own accord.

The Doctor removed his hand from his pocket. "No need for the sonic screwdriver," he observed, then raised his voice in greeting. "Thank you for opening the door; you're ever so kind," he called into the depths of the stacks, trying to keep the mocking note in his voice at a minimum.

He was answered by a sudden sharp cry near ceiling level, as a brilliant red peacock-like bird flew over his head, scattering a few feathers in its wake. The Doctor inhaled the ozone-like scent of its energy signature as he stooped to pick up one of the fallen feathers.

"Ah," he mused, turning the crimson feather so that it glittered in the dim light, "a phoenix. An unusual sight in a public library...or anywhere else on this planet, for that matter." He called out once again as he moved deeper into the stacks. "Er, hello? Pardon me if I seem a bit forward, but would you mind stopping to chat for a bit? After all, I believe that it is _you_ who has called _me_."

With a loud thud, a book fell from the shelf next to him, landing near his short brown boots. He stooped and lifted it, reading the characters inscribed on its back cover. "The Universe of the Four Gods," the Doctor intoned. "Hmmmm...a fairly small universe, if all it truly has are four gods." The cover shuddered and fell open to the first page, upon which were inscribed only a few sentences. The Doctor read on in his velvety tenor. "This is the story of a mysterious traveler in time and space who helped other people's dreams come true, after he came to another world to assist the seven stars of Suzaku. The story itself is a spell, which begins and becomes real the moment the first page is turned..."

Suddenly, a bright crimson light shone out from the book, nearly blinding the Doctor. The room faded from view, and he found himself falling through a mystical landscape in which brilliant stars sparkled in a deep magenta sky. The phoenix from the library swooped ahead of his tumbling form, emitting a few sharp cries before vanishing from sight.

The Doctor folded his arms as he fell and let out a deep sigh. "Shanghaied again," he muttered. "That's where this insatiable curiosity inevitably leads me. And no TARDIS, as well. At least I've remembered to keep a toothbrush and a fresh pair of knickers in my pocket." He patted his coat pocket to make sure that he hadn't forgotten these necessities and was relieved to feel a few familiar lumps. His ever-present sense of curiosity soon overcame his momentary irritation at being kidnapped, and his eyes began to sparkle as he anticipated the adventure that awaited him. "Ah, well," he remarked cheerfully, "On to the Universe of the Four Gods, I presume."

Meanwhile, back at the library, the short figure of a young woman in her mid-twenties peeked around the bookshelves in the Reference room, where she had surreptitiously followed and observed the rather beautiful man who had been talking to himself a few moments ago. She'd watched him disappear into the book, but, unlike the bystanders outside the library who ignored the materialization of the TARDIS, she was quite willing to believe the evidence of her eyes. "I was _hoping_ he wasn't a nutcase!" she murmured gleefully to herself in an American accent as she picked the book up off the floor. Brushing her short, dark wavy hair out of the somewhat slanted eyes that proclaimed her part-Asian heritage, she wrinkled her snub nose with the aquiline bridge that bore testimony to her European heritage (a nose that, in her words, "is as much of a mutt as I am!") as she attempted to decipher the characters with her limited knowledge of kanji. To her considerable surprise, the characters resolved themselves into English sentences, and she began to read of the adventures of the Doctor…

****

He landed gently on a green hillside that overlooked a small meandering river, pleased to discover that the air was light and clean and refreshingly free of the smell of hydrocarbons that had permeated the atmosphere in Tokyo. Raising a finger to test the light breeze, he touched it to his tongue. "Hmm," he murmured. "Either I've traveled back in time to pre-industrial Tokyo, or more likely, ended up in a different dimension altogether."

The Doctor rose to his feet and stretched with catlike grace before wandering down to the bank of the gentle river. He touched his fingers to the sparkling surface and tasted the water. "Definitely dihydrogen oxide. And delightfully free of significant concentrations of coliform bacteria. The people of this world must have learned basic sanitation; that is, if there _are_ people in this world."

Wandering back up the hill, he surveyed the surrounding countryside. Green, rolling hills met his gaze almost as far as he could see. Far off on the horizon, he observed misty violet mountain peaks rising over the gentle plain, their steep slopes darkened with the thick growth of forests. The forests continued downward, meeting the grassy hills some distance away, the air shimmering slightly at their juncture. The Doctor focused on the shimmer and frowned, rubbing one finger across his chin. "Odd," he mused. "A cloaking device...but hiding what? And from whom? Such advanced technology seems out of place in this pristine environment."

He began to walk in the direction of the mysterious shimmer to investigate it more thoroughly but was diverted by the sharp cry of the phoenix almost directly overhead. The smell of ozone filled the air once again, and the Doctor tilted his face upward towards the mystical bird.

"Excuse me," he called. "Far be it from me to stand upon ceremony, but I can't help feeling that the truly civilized thing to do is to introduce yourself and explain exactly what you want with me. Rassilon knows that I'm hardly a stickler for protocol, but in my society, what you've done to me is commonly known as kidnapping or coercion or several even less attractive phrases." The Doctor frowned as the phoenix continued to circle overhead. "Hasn't your mother ever taught you that the polite thing to do is to ask before taking?" he chided.

Suddenly, the bird whirled around and began to spiral downward towards the Doctor. As it descended, it began to change, its form lengthening and morphing until a tall humanoid touched down before the Doctor. He stood approximately seven feet tall, with huge crimson wings curving upward from his shoulder blades. His hair was scarlet and swept up as if windblown, except for two long strands that trailed in front of his garnet eyes. He wore elaborate scarlet armor trimmed in gold, covering a silken shirt with a sheer fluted collar, and white silken breeches above scarlet knee-high boots. His features were refined and beautiful, although troubled and darkened by some inner concern. The Doctor began to hear the smooth tones of a gentle voice reverberate in his mind, although the lips of the being never moved.

"_Forgive me, Doctor, for my precipitate actions in bringing you here without your permission. I would not have imposed upon you but for the urgency of the situation developing in my world. I can only hope that you will listen to my plea, for many lives hang in the balance, those of my beloved chosen as well as all the people of my domain. I have called upon you as my last and best hope."_

The face of the time traveler tilted up to the face of the beast-god in awe. "A seikun," breathed the Doctor. "I haven't seen one of your kind in…" He stopped suddenly, realizing the faux-pas he was about to commit.

The seikun smiled down at him. _"Millennia is the word you were about to use, I believe. You needn't worry, Doctor; I am well aware of just how rare my kind are. Yes, I am one of the last remaining members of a dying race, but that is not what troubles me now. It is the fate of the humans who live in my care that occupies my thoughts. Certain events have transpired--events that were unforeseen and that we, in the Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho, are poorly equipped to deal with."_

"If I may interrupt a moment," asked the Doctor, "may I inquire exactly how you came to choose me for this, er, exercise in problem solving? I cannot recall ever having met you before…or will we meet in my future?"

The seikun smiled again. _"I am afraid that I have been very remiss in my manners. No, we have not met before, Doctor; I have merely heard rumors of you through the years and finally had my impressions of you confirmed after a fascinating encounter with a long-time friend of yours, a lady Bernice of the Fields of Summer."_

"Benny!" breathed the Doctor in surprise. "She certainly is getting around nowadays. I must catch up with her someday soon, if for nothing else, to entertain her with your description of her as a lady!"

The seikun's eyes lit up suddenly in amusement. _"I would also like to introduce myself properly: I am Suzaku Seikun. If you wouldn't mind, perhaps we could mind-link so that I may inform you quickly and comprehensively of why I am certain that you are the only one who can help us."_

The Doctor nodded his consent and closed his eyes. He gasped at the first contact of the vast and ancient intellect with his own intricate mind, but quickly adapted to the rapid flow of information between the two. In less than two minutes, the Doctor knew the history of the Universe of the Four Gods, the roles of the Priestesses and Shichiseishi, and the sudden new threat that had landed in their midst.

He sighed softly as Suzaku broke off contact with him, then shook his head briefly to clear it. "Yet another amateur muddying the waters," he grumbled in aggravation. "Yes, you were quite right to call me; his kind is what gives renegades a bad name." He gazed up into the now serene face of Suzaku and frowned. "This is quite a lovely little pocket universe you and your kind have developed, the perfect environment for the psychic symbiosis you require ever since your companion race was exterminated. Tell me, do you feel that it's fair to the humans that you have brought to populate your world to keep them at a fairly low level of technological progress, thus limiting their awareness of the essential role they play? I often have problems with races that set themselves up as Gods over less advanced races; they so seldom understand the concept of free will. And your habit of kidnapping a young Earth girl every few decades to serve as the catalyst for your symbiotic re-charge hardly seems to take free will into account at all."

Suzaku's expression remained serene in the face of the Doctor's criticism. _"I did not expect you of all people, Doctor, to find fault with the conscription of an occasional Earth girl to our mission. I, at least, return all my priestesses to their original homes, usually within days of their initial absence."_

The Doctor flushed at Suzaku's accurate and pointed reply. His own habit of picking up the occasional youthful Earth female as a temporary companion on his varied adventures had earned him criticism from many members of the High Council of Time Lords. Firthermore, he seldom returned them to their points of origin, although that was usually by their own choice. Their personal growth during their sojourns with him generally gave them a distaste for their once ordinary lives, but this was not an easy point to prove to outside observers.

Suzaku continued in his defense. _"I have also kept close watch on the inhabitants of Earth in the last few centuries as they advance rapidly in technological skills, and I have failed to detect that they have achieved greater happiness or satisfaction in their daily lives when compared to the descendants of the people who joined us a few millennia ago. As for being worshiped as Gods,"_ here Suzaku frowned, _"it was initially the relationship that eased the minds of the first humans who settled here. But I may tell you, Doctor, that the responsibility of being looked upon as a God far outweighs the privileges of such a position, and we Seikun no more control all the aspects of our people's lives than any parent controls the lives of their adult children. Free will is certainly the prerogative of all our people as much here as it is on Earth."_

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and stared into the seikun's face. "Except when it runs up against your carefully planned strategies for the maintenance of the balance of power in this universe, isn't that so? Remind me sometime to explain to you about chaos theory and the ultimate futility of seeking to control the future, no matter how extensive one's prescient abilities." Suzaku met his gaze steadily, refusing to drop his eyes.

The Doctor sighed. "Well, I suppose that we can debate morality and free will until the skies fall, but in this case, the latter is very likely to happen if I don't intervene. And I have truly lost my taste for reordering societies; I'd rather leave that up to the inhabitants of the worlds to which, in the end, I am merely a visitor." He fixed his green-blue gaze on the seikun. "Let us discuss the problem at hand. I concur with you that the linchpin in this entire situation is your Shichiseishi Chichiri. If we can rescue him, the rest should be a matter of just cleaning up the details, a clean-up process that I have some little experience with. However, the saving of a psyche--or a soul, whichever term you prefer --is a delicate and difficult process, especially when the individual at risk has been as deeply wounded as your principal seishi. If I understand you correctly, the rest of your shichiseishi are not in for an easy time as you foresee it, in spite of the fact that most of them are mere children."

The Doctor's gaze darkened as he gazed into the distance. "Children," he repeated softly. "Must it always be the children who suffer?" He suddenly seemed to bear the weight and grief of ages in his saddened eyes.

With an effort, he pulled himself together under the suddenly compassionate gaze of the seikun. "Well," the Doctor announced briskly, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we succeed! Gloom only begets gloom, and time waits for no man, or time lord either, for that matter! I will tell you, however, that I foresee an unusually long stay here. In spite of the pleasure of traveling through your sophisticated transdimensional portal, I would've preferred that you'd just given me the coordinates, so that I could have brought the TARDIS with me. She not only holds all of my day-to-day needs but also acts as a universal translator for any language on any world I visit."

Suzaku smiled at the Doctor's sudden burst of energy_. "I will provide for all of your personal needs, Doctor; you have only to ask. As for translating back and forth between the Earth language you are speaking now and the language spoken in the Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho, I will provide you with all capabilities in spoken and written communication without the least effort on your part. However this situation resolves, I promise to return you to the library within Earth days of your departure."_

"Ah, yes," the Doctor replied with a slight edge of sarcasm. "Within Earth days…how many months does that translate into in Seikun time?"

Suzaku merely smiled again in reply.

The Doctor sighed one last time. "This was supposed to be a holiday for me, you know. I was hoping for the chance to go fishing."

With a wave of one elegant hand, Suzaku summoned up a simple fishing pole and tackle, with all the necessary accoutrements tucked into a simple bamboo basket, the wondrous gift settling gently at the Doctor's feet. He waved the same hand towards the river_. "All the fish you could ever desire, Doctor… and no need to pursue our problem until the morrow."_

The Doctor flashed a delighted and impudent grin at the beast-god. "Well, live in the moment, that's what I always say! _Carpe diem!, _especially if there's carp! By the way, you wouldn't happen to have any peppermint toothpaste on you, would you?"

****

****

Glossary of terms

Gaijin (Japanese) - foreigner

Gomen nasai (Japanese) - I'm sorry (very polite form)

Obaa-san (Japanese) - Literally, "Grandmother" … a polite way of addressing an elderly woman

Amerikagasshuukoku (Japanese) - the United States

Carpe diem (Latin) - Seize the day!

/-/

**Author's Note: **(7-17-02) (Roku peeks out from the safety of a storm shelter) Ahhhhhhh, well…a rather scientific explanation of the Universe of the Four Gods and its resident Seikun and humans, ne? Probably a "bit-of-a-shock" for you straight fantasy fans; I'm sorry, but I did warn you that I am very much a science fiction/fantasy fan.

And here he is: the Doctor! His eighth incarnation, for those of you familiar with his character. I'm not going to go into long explanations about the Doctor--I'll let you discover him alongside Chichiri--but I will give you this brief explanation, since I don't think that Chichiri will discover this particular fact about the time traveler.

The Doctor is a member of a race that has the ability to "regenerate" twelve times when aged or, as usually occurs in the Doctor's case, when mortally wounded. So the Doctor has basically "died" seven times already, each new incarnation having a different physical appearance and personality than the last. Picture it as if the Suzaku shichiseishi were just one person, and each one became reincarnated into another personality. You would have Nuriko being reborn as Chiriko, who then would become Mitsukake, then Hotohori, and so on. A rather fascinating concept: many different personalities but always retaining the same goal and moral values.

Speaking of moral values, it was an interesting debate between Suzaku and the Doctor on the free will of human subjects, ne? It almost seems as if the Doctor can foresee Suzaku's decision at the end of "White Stones in the Moonlight"--and disagrees with it. Of course, there are probably many such occurrences in the Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho, such as Byakko's forced separation of Suzano and Tatara. As for chaos theory, I think I'll have the Doctor explain that one to Chichiri, so you'll just have to wait.

And yes, we will see Chichiri again in the next chapter --so be happy, fans of blue-haired monks! Welllll, he's not a monk at this point in time...not yet. As for the mysterious reader in the library, you will get to know her better later in the story, too…and no, it's not me! One self-inclusion fic at a time is quite enough for anybody, I think!

So, if you've become rather impatient with this chapter, just think of it as necessary background info… you know, exposition? Who, me, Roku… exposition? Surely you jest!

Well, at least I didn't take you as far back as "primordial ooze!" A few millennia back, yes…but not all the way to the ooze!

Ja ne!

Roku


	3. A new friend

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 3. A New Friend

The youth faced the demon, his heart pounding with excitement and fear, his chest rising and falling rapidly in agitation and anticipation. The demon cast its first illusion at him, engulfing him in flames. The fire licked hungrily at his body, and he could almost feel the blisters rising, his skin charring and falling away. He desperately fought his rising panic, knowing that if he broke now, he was doomed to failure. Gripping the long ash staff, he held it in front of him. "_Fusege,"_ he breathed, praying that the simple spell would take effect quickly. To his relief, the fire whooshed out of existence, leaving him standing whole and unharmed. "Just an illusion," he whispered encouragingly to himself. "That's all it can do, cast illusions. I must not forget!"

In the distance, he could hear the rapid tattoo of hoofbeats approaching from the south and knew that he had very little time in which to complete his task. Lifting the staff, he began to rotate it slowly before the fierce glare of the demon. Increasing the speed of the rotations, he felt the dark power rising in the center of his body. He let it take hold of him and flow through him, enjoying the exhilarating rush of sensation as it streamed through the very essence of him. Filled with the fierce killing joy, he leapt forward and snapped his staff at the demon's form. "_Shi ne!"_ he cried out in exultation as the dark energy burst forth from his staff, impaling the demon with a spear of dark light--and was stunned to see the spear pass harmlessly through the now transparent form of his opponent. "Another illusion?" he gasped, then felt the hot breath of the demon on his cheek as it bit down on the muscles of his neck.

"Gods!" he choked out in a strangled breath, realizing too late that the demon had tricked him into dropping his guard. He clawed at its red fur in panic, tears of pain running down his face. _Is this how it ends? _he thought in despair, feeling his vision begin to darken around the edges. At that moment, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Another staff swooped down before his panicked face, and he felt the percussive force of a blow knock him to one side. At the same time, the crushing grip of the demon suddenly disappeared from his neck. He was dimly aware of the demon snarling and leaping forward at its new attacker, then sailing back as the opponent hit the demon with blow after blow from his staff. Finally, the demon lay insensible next to him, and the youth felt the light touch of hands turning him over gently.

"Are you all right, Maboroshi-kun?" the gentle voice inquired urgently.

The youth opened his eyes, tears of relief escaping him. "Shouryuu-_senpai!_" he gasped gratefully as he pushed himself into a sitting position and readjusted his mask. "Thank the gods! I thought I was done for!"

His voice broke off in a cough, as the hand that had gently lifted him now tightened its grip and shook him violently.

"You idiot! What the hell are you playing at, taking my staff and running out here to hunt demons? You're just a beginner; you could've gotten killed!"

The youth set his teeth in anger and embarrassment. "I'm _not _a beginner! I've been in training now for--"

"Six whole months," the elder student remarked coolly, regaining control over his temper. "Learning just enough to get yourself into trouble and not enough to get out again. Well, perhaps this will teach you better than any warnings from Magus-Sensei In the end, I suppose it was fortunate that you took my staff; that's how I realized what you were up to." He reached out and picked the long staff up off the ground where Maboroshi had dropped it.

For once, Maboroshi was glad of the mask that hid his grimaces of frustration and disappointment. He carefully assumed an aura of abashed gratitude, just in case Shouryuu was reading his ki. Such intrusions into one another's thoughts were strictly forbidden between the student-apprentices of Magus-Sensei but one could never tell what went on in the mind of Shouryuu-_senpai. _The favored senior student gave nothing away and fiercely protected his secrets, exceeding even the strict personal privacy rules of the hidden school of the warrior-mages.

The young student watched closely as Shouryuu examined the stunned demon, running his fingers through its thick red fur and peering into its slack jaws. He drew back from the creature and breathed a brief spell. To Maboroshi's amazement, the demon staggered to its feet and wandered back towards the hillside, collapsing weakly into its den.

"You... you didn't finish it off!" exclaimed the young student in disbelief. "You just let it go! I don't understand; isn't it our duty to destroy evil wherever we find it?"

"It was just a kitsune-youkai," was the soft reply. "It isn't evil by nature. The worst it will do is to play tricks on unwary humans using its powers of illusion."

Maboroshi leaped to his feet, his anger causing him to abandon his usual caution around his elders. "So what kind of illusion do you call _this?_" he cried, clutching at the bite wound on his neck.

Shouryuu turned his gaze on the bleeding wound. "I'd call that a delusion, in fact--your delusion that the principle weapon of any demon is also its _only_ weapon. Nearly all demons also have the ability to fight with tooth and claw; that's a point that I'm certain you will never forget from this day on. It's also an object lesson to you in what can happen when you try to get between the members of a family." The black mask which covered Shouryuu's features from forehead to upper lip did not obscure the sudden chill that emanated from him, the glittering eyes behind the mask suddenly glaring at the younger student. "Did you even realize that you attacked a lactating female? All she was trying to do was protect her kits; exactly what were you hoping to achieve here?"

Maboroshi felt the familiar rage rise in him at the reprimand from the elder student. Who the hell did Shouryuu think he was, anyway? Magus-Sensei had made it very clear that demons were by definition evil, and that it was better to destroy a harmless demon than to let a dangerous one escape. Shouryuu obviously was soft on this policy, but he, Maboroshi, respected the Sensei! What right did Shouryuu have to rebuke him for following the Sensei's teachings? He stopped and sighed inwardly. The right of the senior student, that's what right; at least until the Sensei appeared. Maboroshi brought his temper back under control, assuming an outwardly deferential stance, a coping mechanism that he had learned from being on the bottom of the pecking order for all of his young life.

Maboroshi bowed. "Forgive my impertinence, Shouryuu-_senpai. _I must have misunderstood my classroom instructions. I yield to your greater wisdom and experience."

The glittering eyes fixed on the younger student for a moment. Maboroshi, covertly testing the atmosphere with his ki, was surprised to detect a faint feeling of disappointment emanating from the elder student. Shouryuu turned and remounted his horse.

"Maboroshi, please return to the school. I will not report this incident to the Sensei on the condition that you refrain from repeating this foolishness. Do I make myself clear?"

Maboroshi bowed again, concealing his frustration at flattery once more failing to soften the elder student. "Hai, Shouryuu-_senpai._ Thank you!" He watched as the elder student rode away, the erect bearing and graceful posture of the retreating back seeming to transmit disdain to the younger student. Maboroshi narrowed his eyes. "Someday, Shouryuu-_senpai_...someday you will kneel before _me!"_ he promised in a silky whisper.

****

Shouryuu returned to the castle confines from the stables, inwardly frowning at this latest encounter with Maboroshi. He had hoped that the young magician would show some spirit for once, but once again, the youth had disappointed him with his sycophantic ways. The elder student shuddered briefly. There was something about Maboroshi that set his teeth on edge, a certain slyness in his manner that made Shouryuu long to shake the daylights out of the boy. Ever since Maboroshi had arrived, he'd seemed fascinated with the elder student in an unhealthy way: always seeking to flatter Shouryuu but more disturbingly, bending the rules of privacy to discover more about the object of his interest. Shouryuu hadn't missed the secretive peek at his ki; whenever that happened, it always felt to him as if he was being touched lightly with an insidious caress. That, and the apparently casual intrusions into his room after hours to beg a question or seek guidance, all the time looking, looking, _looking_ at his surroundings and attempting to glimpse the man behind the mask: all this made Shouryuu feel like a beleaguered object of desire. It was true he could sense waves of sexual interest from the youth, but that was not his main objective. No, the boy would be perfectly happy to enter into physical relations with the elder student, but primarily as an entry into the much more seductive position of gaining power over his senior.

So why didn't he report these transgressions to Magus-Sensei and attempt to get the youth expelled from the school? The rules of privacy were strict and unyielding. Everyone was to go about masked in public and never show their face to their fellow students; names were assigned to each student upon admission and real names were never to be spoken; discussions of past lives and histories were strictly forbidden lest one let slip the name of a hometown or family member; and most importantly, one was never allowed to read the ki of a fellow student. The rules were established for the security of all students. After all, they were to become familiar with one another's powers and limitations ; if they also knew the true identity of their fellow magicians, they would then possess the power to utterly destroy that person. Attempts to cross the boundaries of privacy were punishable by immediate expulsion. Shouryuu could rid himself of the young pest with a single word to Magus-Sensei...so why did he hold back?

Perhaps because he sensed the wounded spirit in the youth. Shouryuu was much more skilled in completely escaping detection while reading another's ki; Maboroshi was right to wonder whether the senior student adhered to that particular rule. Shouryuu did not make a habit of intruding into his peers' privacy, but the dogged pursuit by the younger student had caused him to cross that line in self-defense. And what he found brought a familiar ache back into his heart.

The boy had suffered hardships beyond what Shouryuu had experienced in his own life; at least Shouryuu had had a mother who loved him. Maboroshi had been without a family since birth and had been sold into servitude at a young age. He'd learned to spy on and manipulate people as a survival mechanism, and it seemed that he could not lose his mistrust in others even after his rescue by Magus-Sensei. Shouryuu didn't have the heart to condemn the boy back into that life by reporting him to Magus, so he coped with the intrusion into his own life and attempted to quell the youth's inappropriate behavior by maintaining a distant and critical attitude towards him.

Shouryuu sighed. "Not working very well, is it?" he mocked himself softly.

"Is something troubling you, Shouryuu?" queried a deep and melodious voice.

Shouryuu looked up startled into the black-masked face of his master. "No, Sensei," he lied softly. A twinge of guilt seized him, and he decided to amend the lie. "At least, nothing that I can't handle on my own."

The pale eyes regarded him from behind the dark façade. "Independent as always," the master murmured in an amused tone. "Admirable… admirable."

As always, Shouryuu was unsure of whether he was being commended or mocked. Uncertain of how to reply, he merely bowed in respect. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Magus-Sensei," he queried respectfully, "would it be possible for me to be excused from this afternoon's studies? I would like some time to myself...perhaps to take a walk."

The tall form of his master tilted his head as he regarded his introspective apprentice. Shouryuu waited anxiously for his master's reply.

"I don't see why not," the deep voice rumbled gently. "I believe that time to ponder is often the key to solving any personal concern. As you have been a creature of the outdoors in your past, it doesn't surprise me that the outside world beckons to you now. Just return to us before too long, Shouryuu; the others will miss you at evening meditation if you are late."

Shouryuu bowed in genuine gratitude, trying to hide his elation. At last! At last, he would have time to himself in the world he loved best; at last, he could pretend he was free!

****

Shouryuu walked rapidly down the path that led away from the castle. Drawing in deep breaths of the fragrant air, he washed out his lungs with the scented breeze that carried hints of spicy pine as well as sweet wildflowers. Soon he felt the outside world take hold of him again: the grass thick and springy under his sandals, the sky almost dark with the intense blue color that signaled the height of spring. He treasured these rare times when he could escape the dark, mystical confines of the castle stronghold to wander through the natural landscape that he had always loved. A twinge of guilt passed through him; hadn't he promised to leave behind all of his past, his loves and hates as well as his very identity? But the freedom of the outdoors called to him like a siren's song, pulling at the bonds of duty that held him fast. He'd always loved wandering through the countryside, discovering hidden treasures such as tiny springs that burbled with water sweet and cold, groves of trees in which one could stand silently until the deer came to feed in evening, hidden patches of wild strawberries. He closed his eyes as he remembered the tiny ruby fruit that fulfilled the promise of its succulent beauty with a taste so sweet and sharp, one might think that he had just bitten into nature's rendition of a lover's kiss.

Shouryuu pulled the mask from his face, looking at the magical image of two glittering eyes that seemed to stare at him from behind the eyeholes, before tucking the mystical object safely away in his satchel. He pushed down the hood of his cloak, needing to feel the breeze lift his trailing silvery-blue bangs and caress his pale skin. This was the only time that he allowed himself this freedom outside of his room and bathchamber. Only now, when he was certain that he was sufficiently far from both the castle and the town that no one would ever see the ruined visage that was his true appearance, did he permit himself to turn his face to the sun. He traced a finger over the scar that slashed across the closed eyelid of his left eye and marred the clean strong line of his nose. He tried to use the awareness of his ugliness to compel himself to cover up again, but the feeling of the sun and the wind on his skin was too seductive for him to resist. He pulled off his robe and secreted it into his satchel so that no one would recognize him as one of the young acolytes of the mysterious school.

Shouryuu laughed out loud. He knew that the other students both mocked and envied his apparent self-discipline by calling him "The Monk" behind his back. Little did they know that he was the farthest thing from a cold aesthete who lived only for the mind. He was, in fact, a sensualist: a worshipper of all the gifts the body could bring. And this landscape of open air, of fields and woods and rushing streams, provided so many stimuli to each of his sharpened senses that the mere act of walking down this grassy path rendered him nearly drunk with pleasure. The beauty of the green hills soothed his eyes, while the music of birdsong lifted his heart. The flowery, woodsy scent of the breeze settled in his lungs and left a sweet taste on his tongue. And the warmth of the sunlight combined with the coolness of the breeze made the hairs on his arms stand up in joyful celebration, made him shudder and tremble in delight. No, he was no monk spurning the delights of the physical world for the dry, dusty confines of philosophical introspection. If anything, his heightened sensitivity made him a secret debauchee who could find pleasure in a cup of sparkling water equal to that which other men could find only in a woman's lips.

The young magician gave up the struggle to repress his joy at being part of nature, if only for a few hours. Later tonight, he would force himself back into the confines of his mental discipline. But for now, he would let himself drink fully of all the pleasures this land had to offer. He would revel in the feelings of physical joy until he had accumulated a worthy collection of sins for which he could repent at length.

As his final immersion into the world of the senses, he released his mind from its confines and let it wander the land, hoping to encounter the soft, unfocused ki of a shy deer or timid hare. Letting his ki roam ahead like a questing hound, he smiled at the startled clatter of pheasant wings in the brush that quickly subsided once the bird realized that there was no harm in the gentle life force it encountered. Shouryuu quickened his pace to keep up with his ki as it streamed towards the small river that he knew lay just over the next hill. But just as he approached the foot of that hill, he was suddenly overwhelmed with a force that nearly drove him to his knees.

He caught his breath, gasping at the powerful life force that radiated outward from a location on the bank of the river. _Gods,_ he couldn't believe it! This ki was at least as powerful as that of Magus-Sensei, but completely different in character. Instead of Magus's dark ki that whispered of hidden forces while provoking images of thunderclouds hovering above thick swirling mists, this ki sparkled and shimmered like the twinkling lights of a thousand rainbow-tinted fireflies. It spoke of joy and wonder and life and love; it was the embodiment of a creature who cavorted as blissfully through the treasures of the world as he himself did. Shouryuu drew back abashed. Next to this life force, his own ki seemed drab and grey and shadowed. Could he bear to face a creature that carried no burden of guilt and grief, a creature whose purity might spurn the warped and damaged soul he sought to hide? The youth fished around frantically for his mask, pulling it over his face but leaving his cloak hidden in his satchel. He couldn't resist sneaking up for a glimpse of this wondrous being, but he knew that he would die of humiliation if this magical creature fled in fear from his own ruined face.

For a moment, he thought that he felt the mystical ki surround and embrace him, but it began to withdraw as if it was being pulled into a container and closed away. Shouryuu leaped after it desperately, terrified of losing it. As he rushed forward, his rational mind tried to warn him against the danger that possibly lay ahead. _Lure, _it whispered. _Trap. _He shook his head, not pausing in his headlong rush. "If this is a trap, then it's the perfect one for me," he gasped to himself. "Because I think I'll die if I don't see what creature this is!" He crested the hill, stopping briefly to catch his breath and survey his surroundings. Looking around, he didn't see any movement and was at first crushed with disappointment, but finally gathered his wits and began surveying the area with his mind. There! Beneath the willow that overhung the river, he could detect the last few rainbow sparkles of energy as they swirled down to be contained in the form of…a man.

He almost collapsed with disappointment. Just a man? He'd expected some fantastical creature: perhaps a _chi lin_, or a winged beast-god, or a dragon with glittering metallic scales. In spite of his disappointment, Shouryuu's insatiable curiosity compelled him to descend the hill and approach the man. Drawing close, he saw that it was indeed an ordinary man. Ordinary except for the bizarre outfit that he wore, all velvet and silk with a strange tailored cut. Ordinary except for his hair that hung free instead of being confined in a ponytail, its brown-gold waves of a sort not seen in this country.

As he approached the sleeping figure, he studied the man's dark eyelashes brushing against fine cheekbones, his straight nose and strong chin, the curved bow of his lips. Once again, Shouryuu felt the familiar ache in his chest, the ache caused by the knowledge that his own deformed features must appear twice as ugly when compared to those who enjoyed nature's perfection. He'd never considered himself beautiful in the past, but he had at least been able to go about in the light of day without shame. Now the only way to avoid the flinching of his fellow men at the sight of his face was to go about masked or under cover of night. He was suddenly seized with grief at the irony of that reality: that he, who so loved the sun, had now become a creature of darkness and night. Dropping to his knees beside the beautiful man, he felt the dampness of tears on his face beneath the mask, and began to draw back...but found his hand seized in a grip both inexorable and gentle.

"Don't be afraid." The voice was soft and musical, and Shouryuu found himself ceasing his panicked struggles. "And don't be so sad," the gentle voice soothed, as the man sat up, still gripping Shouryuu's hand. The young magician sat frozen, hypnotized by the rapid turn of events. The man opened his eyes…and Shouryuu was lost.

Worlds…worlds spun in that verdant gaze. Shouryuu saw planets and starscapes and the passage of years so numerous that there were not enough numbers in existence to count them. He felt as if the entire vast panorama of the universe throughout time was laid bare before his trembling gaze, and he gasped sharply at the overwhelming sense of eternity that now held him in its grip.

"Whoops!" exclaimed the musical voice, and the eyes closed briefly in a quick blink. Shouryuu felt himself released from Time's grasp and was seized by conflicting emotions of relief and disappointment. The stranger opened his eyes once again, and this time the youth found himself gazing into blue eyes that sparkled with kindness and compassion. "My sincere apologies. I didn't mean to overwhelm you with all that at once! Must be getting clumsy in my old age," he muttered. Shouryuu stared at the stranger in confusion. He didn't appear all that old; perhaps twice his own age, but that was still hardly on the verge of senility.

"Well, I'm a bit older than I look," the stranger explained, then grimaced as Shouryuu jumped in surprise at the stranger reading his thoughts. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I must get myself under control! This translational interface may be unfamiliar to me, but that is still no excuse for my _extreme_ rudeness in mind-linking without permission! I do so hope that you can forgive me." Shouryuu found himself the object of an ingratiating and hopeful grin, which reminded him irresistibly of a mischievous child hoping to escape punishment. Before he realized it, he was grinning back at the man.

"There, that's better," the stranger said in satisfaction. "Smiles are ever so much more enjoyable than tears, wouldn't you agree?"

Shouryuu startled again and frowned at the man's ability to step effortlessly past the shields he had erected around his ki.

"Whoops!" exclaimed the man once more. "There I go again, stepping squarely into 'your space', as my companions often say. I have an excellent idea: why don't we start over? Although I am your senior by, let's say a _few_ years, I will break with protocol and introduce myself first. My name is the Doctor, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister, er…"

"Shouryuu," the youth replied without thinking, then frowned again. What was it about this "Doctor" that made him abandon his usual caution? He was never this open with people, as his fellow students were well aware! And why were the Doctor's eyes now clearly blue, when he could have sworn that they were green when the man first fixed his mystical gaze upon him? Shouryuu narrowed his eye in suspicion, but the Doctor took no apparent notice of his guarded mood.

"Hmmmmm, 'Rising Dragon' is it? Or do you mean…" he paused delicately, "...'Child without a Family Name'?"

Shouryuu knew that he ought to be offended by the Doctor's presumption, but he detected only gentle sympathy in the man's oddly accented voice. In any case, that was a question he had asked himself when Magus-Sensei first bestowed the name upon him. Back then, he had chosen to give his new name the "dragon" interpretation, for he could not believe that his savior would be so cruel as to remind him of his solitary status every day of his life. Yet suddenly, this stranger's gentle question once again brought into doubt the true motivations of the man he had chosen to follow. In any case, he could not argue with the accuracy of the crueler interpretation of his name. Shouryuu felt the familiar grief stir in his heart, and just for a moment he was lost in his past.

The Doctor broke in on his dark thoughts. "Well, let's just choose the 'Dragon' appellation, yes? Unless, of course, there is another name you would prefer; something that you're a little more comfortable with?"

Shouryuu shifted under the Doctor's suddenly keen gaze. "No," he replied uneasily. "No, I have no other name. This is who I am…and all that I am."

"Nonsense!" was the Doctor's spirited reply. "We are ever so much more than can be summed up in a single word! But for purposes of brevity, a single word has its uses. After all, think of calling out a warning: 'Oh, Young Man with Gentle Heart, Mysterious Past, and Intriguing Future, do watch out for that falling boulder!' Oops! Scratch the Intriguing Future part."

Shouryuu couldn't help it; he laughed out loud at the Doctor's giddy flights of fancy. The Doctor joined him, laughing happily and throwing a companionable arm around his shoulders. Shouryuu was amazed at the feeling of lightness that filled his heart. He hadn't laughed like this since…since before the flood. And that was nearly a year-and-a-half ago. His laughter trailed off, but the Doctor continued to laugh for a few more seconds, then patted him on the back reassuringly.

"Never mind. Shouryuu will do just fine as a name. Rather romantic, really; just the thing to catch the girls' interest!"

Shouryuu snorted in sudden contempt. "Oh, yes, that's me. The girls are always falling over themselves to get in line for my attentions."

"They might, if you gave them--or _yourself_--half a chance," the Doctor remarked mildly. "You know, allow them to get to know the man behind the mask."

"Right!" snarled Shouryuu. "As long as they're the sort of girls who are enchanted by the 'deformed freak' type!" He stopped, suddenly aghast at all that he had revealed to this mysterious stranger.

The Doctor squeezed his shoulder reassuringly again. "Come now," he rebuked gently. "I don't believe in name-calling, especially when directed at such an undeserving target."

"What do you know?" Shouryuu cried out in anger and shame. "You don't know me; we've only just met! And why am I telling you _any_ of this, anyway?" He gripped his head in confusion.

The Doctor pulled his hands down and held them clasped between his own. Shouryuu was dimly surprised by all the physical contact that he had just experienced with this man; he'd been touched more in the last five minutes than in the past two years! Was this stranger an _okama_, perhaps? No...no, that wasn't it; he could feel none of the red waves of sexual interest radiating off this man's ki. Instead, he was reminded of the way a parent would scoop up a distraught child in his arms and hold it tight until it calmed. And for no reason that he could explain, he suddenly wanted to bury his face in this man's chest and cry until the pain in his heart faded away. Shouryuu found himself blinking back tears at the waves of gentle comfort that seemed to surround him.

The velvet voice spoke again. "Why, you confide in me because we are destined to become friends. Can't you feel it? There's nothing wrong in confiding in a friend."

Shouryuu looked down at the ground, avoiding the Doctor's gaze but leaving his hands in the man's grasp. "I have no friends," he whispered softly.

"Well, then, it's high time you started. And the best number to start with is one, wouldn't you agree? So let's just set aside the usual formalities and proceed onto…Hi!" the Doctor suddenly shouted in alarm.

Shouryuu jumped in shock.

"The pole, the pole!" the Doctor cried. "Grab the fishing pole!"

Without thinking, Shouryuu leaped at the fishing pole that lay previously unnoticed next to him and was now sliding rapidly toward the river. He grasped it and pulled it back.

"Not too hard! Don't yank on it or we'll lose it!" barked the Doctor. "Here, let me help you!" He wrapped his arms around the slight figure of the youth and helped him grip the pole, pulling steadily yet inexorably back. The pole suddenly leaped forward again, nearly tearing out of both their grasps. Caught by their combined strength, the pole began to bend towards the river in a strained bow.

"Damn!" swore Shouryuu. "What's got hold of this, anyway?"

"We'll never know if we let it go! Hold on, Shouryuu! Here, let out some line before it snaps!" The reel whizzed as the line shot out. "Okay, that's far enough! Start pulling back--slowly, slowly. Good! Now let it go a bit once more."

They played the fish for the next fifteen minutes, letting it run, then reeling it back in. Shouryuu felt his mask dampen with sweat but at the same time, he could have shouted with glee. He felt the Doctor shake with laughter behind him, and he knew that the man was as caught up in the excitement as he. The fish continued to fight them, but as time went on, their patience paid off and the struggles grew weaker. Finally, they began to reel the monster in steadily. A huge reddish fin broke the surface near the bank of the little river.

The Doctor cried out in agony. "Oh, we need a _net!_ Why didn't I think to ask for a _net_?"

Suddenly, a large net suspended on a metal loop appeared at the Doctor's feet. Shouryuu nearly dropped the pole in surprise.

"Don't lose your focus now!" cried the Doctor, and Shouryuu grasped the pole once more. "Keep reeling steadily!"

Shouryuu obeyed, and soon the Doctor waded out into the shallow water at the bank, unmindful of his now soaking pants and boots. He scooped the net beneath the thrashing fish and pulled it up out of the water, displaying the huge salmon proudly before Shouryuu's ecstatic gaze.

"Dinner…" the Doctor announced grandly, "…is served!"

****

The two new friends lay back on the hillside, full of fish and happiness, contentedly watching the clouds turn pink and violet in the evening sky. They had created a feast fit for an emperor, as Shouryuu utilized his long-unused skills to find mushrooms, ginger, and wild carrots growing in their immediate surrounds. The Doctor had painlessly dispatched the salmon to its next life by a gentle tap between its eyes (yet again mystifying his young friend with his unusual powers) and cleaned it while Shouryuu had gathered fragrant wild herbs. They had seasoned the fish, stuffing it with mushrooms, ginger, carrots and herbs, then wrapped it in leaves and coated the bundle with a thick layer of clay from the bottom of the river. They finished by laying their creation in the embers from a glowing campfire. As the clay hardened and dried and the fragrance of baking salmon filled the air, the two men chatted quietly and easily about herbs and plants and favorite recipes from their travels. Shouryuu had surprised himself with how eagerly he awaited the breaking of the baked clay coating. Greed had never been one of his vices, but the fragrance of the herbs and ginger and above all, the knowledge that he had _earned_ the spoils of their hard-won battle, whetted his appetite to a level he could not previously remember.

The meal had exceeded even Shouryuu's heightened expectations, and the two men toasted their skill as fishermen and master cooks with cups of cool water from a nearby spring. There'd been only one uneasy moment earlier, when the Doctor had asked Shouryuu if he wouldn't prefer eating without his mask. Shouryuu flinched but decided to not take offense. "You see, Doctor, it's an enchanted mask. It causes me no discomfort at all. In any case, I would rather be slightly uncomfortable than subject you to the sight of my true features while you are trying to eat." The young man attempted to laugh as if he had made a joke, but the Doctor's expression grew momentarily sad.

"It's true that it's far too soon for you to trust me," the musical voice replied softly. "But you must understand that I already know your true features."

Shouryuu's eye opened wide in fear and surprise. The Doctor placed a hand gently on one side of his black mask and closed his eyes as if he were a fortuneteller about to impart words of futures yet unseen.

"It is a young face whose scars only serve to emphasize the purity of its unmarred features. There is life and pain and sadness and hope drawn in every delicate line. There is mistrust and grief but also curiosity and compassion reflected in its ever-changing expressions. And above all," the voice paused for a moment, then continued with gentle conviction, "there is the potential for one eye to see more clearly than two."

Shouryuu bit down hard on his lip to keep from sobbing aloud. The Doctor opened his eyes and caught Shouryuu once more in his emerald gaze. As Shouryuu gazed transfixed into their depths, the Doctor's eyes changed, shading slowly back to their customary azure hue. The eyes suddenly crinkled up in merriment, releasing Shouryuu from their spell, as the Doctor lowered his hand from the mask and held it out before Shouryuu. "Now cross my palm with silver," he commanded.

And so the meal had proceeded in amicable companionship, as the Doctor explained cheerfully to Shouryuu about gypsies and crystal balls and various other wonders that he had encountered on his travels. Shouryuu was both enchanted by and envious of the Doctor's adventures. "If I were free to do whatever I pleased, I would travel throughout the world, too!" he exclaimed passionately.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at the qualification. "So you're not... free?" he inquired gently. Shouryuu looked away, flushing at his revealing outburst. The Doctor lifted his face to the sky, releasing Shouryuu from his questioning gaze. "Oh, look!" he suddenly cried in delight. Shouryuu tilted his mask in the direction of the Doctor's pointing hand, expecting to see wonders beyond belief, but encountering only the normal evening sky. He turned his mask towards the Doctor with a questioning tilt to his head. The Doctor waved his hands impatiently. "Clouds!" he burst out in excitement.

So that was how they ended up on the hillside, trying to convince one another of the fantastical creatures they saw depicted in the drifting vapors in the sky. The Doctor's feet were bare, boots and stockings left back at the campfire to dry, while he occasionally shook out his pant legs, hoping that the last rays of the sun and the gentle breeze would draw out the last of the dampness. Shouryuu found himself smiling in wonder as the Doctor tried to convince him of the strong resemblance of one cloud to an eight-limbed creature that was the sensei of an obscure martial art known as "Venusian Aikido." He marveled at the familiar feeling of lightness and laughter that once more echoed in his heart. "So this is what happiness feels like," he thought to himself. "I'd forgotten..." Suddenly, he realized the significance of the deepening violet color of the clouds and leapt up from the hill in dismay. He turned towards the curious glance of the Doctor.

"It's late!" Shouryuu exclaimed to his new friend. "I have to get back to the... I have to get back home!"

The Doctor smiled in understanding. "So run along then. I wouldn't want you to get into trouble on my account."

Shouryuu nodded in gratitude. Snatching up his satchel, he began running towards the crest of the hill. Sadness suddenly gripped his heart, and he turned in panic to look back at his newfound friend. "Will you be here tomorrow?" he called out, failing to keep the desperate hope from his voice.

The Doctor waved his hand over his head in a brisk salute. "Assuredly I will!" he called back.

Shouryuu breathed a sigh of relief, then continued on the path back towards the darkening sky. "Something to look forward to," he breathed like a prayer. "At last, I have something to look forward to."

****

Back at the National Library in Tokyo...

The young woman wiped her eyes as she completed the latest chapter of the book, which now mysteriously displayed the title "The Universe of the Four Gods" on its worn cover. "Poor boy," she whispered in sympathy. "Poor kid... Good thing he finally met up with the Doctor."

She arched her back and stretched, shifting her weight so that her back was no longer pressed against the last row of bookshelves in the Reference Room. Glancing at her watch, she realized that the library would be closing soon. "Damn!" she cursed softly, but her attention was caught by new sentences forming on the next blank page. She lifted the book once again, and soon fell into the wonder of the next chapter.

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Fusege - "Stop" or "Block (something)"

Shi ne! - "Die!"

Maboroshi - phantom, illusion

Shouryuu - "Rising Dragon", or "illegitimate family lineage"

-kun - suffix used when addressing a young man (familiar)

senpai - senior or upperclassman

kitsune-youkai - a fox-demon

sensei - teacher or master

chi lin - a mythical Chines creature that resembles a unicorn

okama - homosexual

**Author's note: **(8-2-02) Whoo, lotsa Japanese, ne? Sorry - I just happened to be in the mood! And here is my appropriation of the title of Chichiri's gaiden novel - Shouryuu Den - to use as his "student name."

Yuu Watase defines Shouryuu as "Rising Dragon" (and that's also the name of the spell that Chichiri utilizes at the end of that novel) but my Japanese-English translational server interprets the phrase as "illegitimate family lineage." Since there is some question as to the identity of Chichiri's father in my story, I thought that I'd let that interpretation also stand.

Well, a little more Doctor, a little more Chichiri... Things are starting to move; slowly, yes, but the speed is increasing. Let me know what you think!

Ja ne!

Roku

P.S. To my sister, Chichiri's Girl: The plot thickens, and so does the characterization! So here's my youthful version of your favorite guy: passionate, impetuous, sensual. Ya like?


	4. Degrees of betrayal

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 4. Degrees of Betrayal

The dragonfly hovered above the swirling current, appearing to pause above the two gently bobbing floats in puzzled contemplation of the foreign objects in the familiar landscape. The susurrus waters of the river lulled the inhabitants of the riverbank into a sense of somnolent peace.

All but one.

A sound of impatience. "Tch!"

A sleepy musical voice. "Something wrong, Shouryuu?"

"Thought I had a bite, but it got away!"

The Doctor removed the replica of his old brimmed hat from its resting place over his eyes and raised himself up on his elbows to regard the young man seated beside him on the grassy bank of the small river. The warmth of the afternoon had compelled him to remove his velvet frock coat and loosen his cravat, so he appeared slightly disheveled and vaguely bemused as he blinked sleepily at his companion.

"Are you hungry?"

The black mask turned to face him, conveying confusion in spite of the fact that only mouth and chin were visible. "No, not particularly. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I thought perhaps you might be hungry, and that's why you're so anxious to catch a fish. Myself, I'm not particularly hungry either, so it really doesn't matter whether or not I get a bite. Seems a waste to catch a fish when I don't intend to eat it."

Shouryuu stared at his friend in confusion. "If you don't want to catch fish, then why are you fishing?"

"Ah," replied the Doctor, "_there's_ a profound question for you. But am I really fishing?" He scratched his chin in apparent confusion. "Did I even remember to bait the hooks?"

"What?" the young man cried out in aggravation. "Do you mean that I've been sitting here staring at this line for over an hour, and there's not even any _bait_ on the hook? Why would you waste my time that way?"

"Hmmm," mused the Doctor. "But has it really been a waste of time? Haven't you enjoyed the peace of the afternoon, listening to the cicadas and the birds and watching the floats drift in the current? Is the capture of a piscine creature the only thing that gives meaning to this exercise? Especially when you're not even particularly interested in consuming said creature. If you _did_ catch a fish, would you simply pack your things and return home, having accomplished your goal for the day? Or would you prefer to stay around and perhaps spend more time in deep uninterrupted thought?"

Shouryuu tilted his head. "I'm not sure if I understand you. Are you saying that the point of fishing is not necessarily to catch fish?"

The Doctor beamed at him. "Precisely! I could tell that you were a quick study! It's true that if you are hungry and need to eat, then the point of fishing is unquestionably to catch a fish of consumable proportions. But more often, for me anyway, fishing is a wonderful opportunity to let the mind wander down broad paths of inner contemplation. This life seldom leaves us time or space enough to contemplate _what_ we should do before we actually go out and start _doing_ it. I like to think of fishing as a way to prevent disastrous actions on my part by giving me the chance to ponder how I really feel about a situation before I get involved or take action."

Shouryuu frowned under his mask, carefully considering the Doctor's words. Part of his brain recommended that he simply ignore the sometimes strange ramblings of his foreign friend, but the last two weeks had taught him the Doctor's insouciant manner of talking often masked layers of meaning that lay concealed behind his words. In fact, Shouryuu often spent the evening meditation mulling over the Doctor's latest whimsical cascade of philosophical musings instead of the deeper, darker questions of how to recognize and defeat evil. Although he knew that he should feel guilty over shirking the mental exercises expected of the students of the academy, he couldn't bring himself to stop wandering the brighter paths of contemplation laid before him by the Doctor.

He carefully laid his fishing pole down, propping it on a rock, and turned towards his companion to ask further enlightenment. But the Doctor was no longer sprawled comfortably on the riverbank. He sat upright, his arms draped around his knees. Although his posture remained outwardly relaxed, Shouryuu could read that every line of the Doctor's body was poised in tense alertness, and found his own muscles growing taut in readiness.

"We have company," the Doctor breathed.

Shouryuu immediately sent out his ki to investigate the area, taking care to shield his own presence. There, just up on the hill to the west: someone was questing around, shielding his own ki with far less skill than Shouryuu. Shouryuu touched softly around the shield, feeling out identifying energy signatures before pulling back in shock and rage.

"Damn him!" swore Shouryuu, his anger exploding outward, making his own shield waver. The mystical eyes behind his mask glittered and flashed, matching the turbulence of his thoughts. "Will he _never_ leave me in peace? Is there no place where I can be free of his damnable, relentless prying?" He trembled with fury.

The intruder on the hill looked up suddenly, detecting the wavering of Shouryuu's ki shield. He hesitated only a moment before starting down the hill towards them. Shouryuu felt his rage rising until it nearly choked him.

The Doctor placed a restraining hand on Shouryuu's arm. "It's too late for us to conceal our presence, so we may as well prepare to make the best of this situation." He turned a warning gaze on his companion's black mask. "Remember, Shouryuu: to lose control over yourself is to _give_ control to your opponent." He bent and picked up the fishing pole, forcing it back into Shouryuu's hands. "Now try to remember the point of fishing...and let's see what we find on the end of our hooks." He suddenly flashed a cheeky grin at his companion and leaned back on the riverbank, replacing his hat over his face. Shouryuu felt his anger abate slightly at the Doctor's confidence. Perhaps the Doctor was right; perhaps there was a way to turn this situation to their advantage. He readjusted his shield to completely block his ki and assumed an outwardly tranquil demeanor.

Their uninvited guest picked his way carefully along the riverbank until he reached them. Shouryuu kept his eye on his fishing line, steadfastly ignoring the intruder, determined to make this situation as uncomfortable as possible for him. He knew that the interloper didn't know quite what to make of the circumstances, or who he should address first: the stranger who appeared for all intents and purposes to be asleep or his fellow magician who appeared to be absorbed in his own world. Finally, the intruder fell back on familiarity and cleared his throat.

"Er, konnichiwa, Shouryuu-senpai."

Shouryuu stared at his fishing line and counted to ten, then turned his mask towards the younger student. He silently examined the boy who stood before him: the long black hair with steely silver highlights tied into a high ponytail, the green eyes flecked with yellow staring out from behind the tan mask which showed his status as an underclassman. A few of the other upperclassmen wore black masks like Shouryuu and Magus-Sensei, but only Shouryuu and his master wore masks that sported the mysterious glittering eyes. As far as the other students knew, those eyes were the true features of their senior and sensei.

The boy shifted uncomfortably under his senior's glittering stare. Shouryuu decided that the tension had risen to a satisfying level, so he broke his silence.

"Maboroshi," he murmured softly. "What brings you out here?" Shouryuu was pleased with his calm, cool tone.

The youth shifted again, glancing at the supine form of the Doctor, before meeting his elder's eyes again. "I…uh…I, ummmm…I decided to take a walk, and the next thing I knew, I ended up here." The words came out in a rush, but he trailed off before the frankly skeptical look in Shouryuu's eyes. Maboroshi decided to try a slightly more truthful tack. "I also hoped to find you, Shouryuu-senpai, for I have a question regarding our last lecture on the nature of..." He looked at the Doctor once again, unsure of what to make of the apparently unconscious stranger and what was safe to speak of in his presence.

Shouryuu could have laughed out loud at the young man's discomfiture. _Serves him right!_ he thought with more malice than maturity. He was almost beginning to enjoy the situation--until Maboroshi suddenly decided to ignore the stranger and fastened his eyes on Shouryuu with an eager, hungry gaze.

The yellow-green eyes traveled Shouryuu's form, from his long silvery blue hair tied in a simple low ponytail to the plain black slippers on his feet. The younger student's eyes lingered on the white cotton of his senior's shirt as it stretched over broadening shoulders, trailing slowly down to the narrow waist encircled by the drawstring waistband of his blue-grey trousers… then paused lower yet. Shouryuu felt a hot flush rise up beneath his mask and found himself wishing fervently for the all-encompassing cloak that usually hid his form.

"The nature of what?" The normally velvet tones were now sharp and direct, and Shouryuu startled nearly as violently as Maboroshi at the demand coming from the previously recumbent form. The Doctor sat up, pushing his hat back on his head and fixing their guest with a direct, unnerving stare. "I believe that you were speaking." His voice was silky but the force behind the request was unmistakable. Shouryuu stared at his new friend; he had never seen this side of the Doctor before. Maboroshi was even more disconcerted by the Doctor's abrupt manner.

The Doctor stared intently at the young man for one moment more, then suddenly relaxed, beaming. "Do forgive me," he said amiably. "It's just that one of my pet peeves is when people fail to complete their sentences. Makes it ever so much more difficult to understand what they're getting at." His eyes sharpened for a moment, pinning Maboroshi once again beneath the azure gaze before relaxing back into amiable vagueness. "I don't believe you've introduced yourself." The voice held the gentle remonstrance of a parent to a wayward child.

Maboroshi's eyes were blinking rapidly, betraying his confusion at the rapidly changing moods of the Doctor. His mouth worked a few times in silence before he choked out his name. "M-Maboroshi," he stuttered.

The Doctor gave a faint half-smile. "Maboroshi, is it? Well, you may call me…" he paused for a moment, then continued smoothly, "…Bowman. Bowman-san."

Shouryuu stared for a moment at his friend. Why was the Doctor hiding his true name? He gave himself a mental shake. Not that "Doctor" was his real name, either, yet Shouryuu felt certain that it was the name that he gave to his friends. He felt unreasonably pleased that the Doctor trusted him with his true identity and was also appreciative that the Doctor was wary of Maboroshi.

"Bo-men-san," repeated Maboroshi thoughtfully. He bowed with the oily respect he showed to all his elders. "I do not recognize you from these parts, Bomen-san. Are you by chance a traveler in this land?"

The Doctor inclined his head slightly. "I have been known to make the odd journey or so," he replied politely.

"May I ask how you and Shouryuu-senpai are acquainted?"

"You just did," replied the Doctor flippantly. "So consider it done."

Maboroshi's eyes turned to Shouryuu's in confusion. The elder student smiled for the first time since Maboroshi had appeared. "You requested permission to ask a question, then asked it. The… er, Bomen-san is not required to answer it." Shouryuu fought to keep the smugness out of his tone.

Maboroshi's eyes flashed momentarily at being the butt of an inside joke between Shouryuu and this stranger. He narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze on the stranger, trying to read the man's ki.

"You know, it's really the most extraordinary thing about many humans with psychic abilities," the Doctor remarked mildly. "They would be appalled at the thought of going up to a complete stranger and requesting that person to remove his clothing so as to get a better look at him--yet think nothing of the considerably more invasive act of looking into that same stranger's _mind_."

Maboroshi flushed and started back, frustrated at the effortless way the stranger blocked him at every turn. But frustration was a familiar emotion to the young man, so he responded in his usual way. Bowing deeply, he murmured, "A thousand apologies, Bomen-san. I did not mean to be presumptuous."

For a moment, pity shone out of the Doctor's eyes. Shouryuu was reminded of Maboroshi's difficult past, and felt a twinge of guilt at his teasing of the young man.

"No matter. No offense meant, and so none taken," the Doctor murmured reassuringly. "After all, it's a common mistake of youth. How old are you, anyway--fourteen, fifteen?"

"Sixteen!" Maboroshi retorted, offended, then flushed under his mask as he realized that he had revealed his true age to Shouryuu and the stranger.

"Ah, sixteen," the Doctor remarked cheerfully. "That explains it: an exciting, passionate age. Standing on the very threshold of manhood, both certain and uncertain of how the world works." He sighed dramatically, appearing to regret his lost youth, but suddenly turned a wickedly gleeful grin on his two young companions. "You couldn't _pay_ me enough to be sixteen again!"

Maboroshi stared in confusion, but Shouryuu burst out laughing, appreciating the truth in the Doctor's humorous words. Maboroshi turned widened eyes towards Shouryuu, having never before witnessed his senior laughing so openly. For a moment, the lost boy stared out of the young man's eyes, allowing his loneliness and longing to belong show openly in his eyes as he bit his lip. For the first time, Shouryuu felt a sudden rush of warmth towards the boy; he felt he could almost _like_ Maboroshi in this vulnerable and boyish state, with none of the calculating behaviors that life had forced him to learn.

He smiled kindly at his young classmate. "Sit down," he invited gently. "I believe you had a question for me?"

****

"But it is our _duty_ to hunt down Evil and destroy it by whatever means we can!" Maboroshi's voice was impassioned, confident of this unequivocal truth. He sat a short distance from Shouryuu, waving his hands to emphasize his statements as he looked back and forth between his fellow magician and the mysterious _gaijin _stranger.

The Doctor contemplated the float on his fishing line as it swirled gently in the river's current. "There is an important judgment that must be made before you embark on your mission to rid the universe of evil, however--and that is to determine what Evil truly is."

Maboroshi shook his head in impatience. "That's what last night's lecture was about: the nature of Evil and how to recognize it. But I don't understand the problem! To me, the concept is simple: Evil is that which threatens and destroys your life!"

Shouryuu sat between Maboroshi and the Doctor, glancing occasionally at the younger student but more often studying the expressions on the Doctor's face. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Doctor was trying to convey something of importance to him...and perhaps to Maboroshi, as well. He contemplated the flawless façade that the Doctor wore in Maboroshi's presence; even with Shouryuu's heightened sensitivity to the nuances of ki, the Doctor appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary traveler somewhat bemused by the foreign land in which he found himself. There was no trace of the dazzling and tremendous power that he had on occasion shown to Shouryuu. Compared to the impressive shield the Doctor now stood behind, the masks that he and Magus-sensei wore were nothing more than children's toys. _He reveals only what he wishes to reveal,_ thought Shouryuu, and shivered. He looked up suddenly to find that azure gaze fixed on him in a serious stare...which slowly broke apart into a reassuring smile.

The Doctor turned his gaze back to Maboroshi. "Well, that is certainly a subjective view of Evil, and perhaps the best way to look at it. The problem occurs when you decide to take on _all_ of the evil in your world; it's at this point that the concept begins to blur."

"I don't understand!" burst out the boy. "Why should it blur? Isn't there a universal truth of Good and Evil--"

"Right and Wrong, Black and White," intoned the Doctor. "If only life would cooperate in making things so neat and tidy. The trouble is that the universe unreasonably insists upon painting reality through shades of grey, not to mention an almost infinite palette of colors. And this ties the concept of Evil into the sticky question of point-of view. Take for example…" the Doctor looked around, his gaze finally settling on a flurry of tiny movements in the tall grass. "…the field mouse. To the field mouse, the owl is the embodiment of Evil. Should we then kill all the owls for the Greater Good of the mouse? But then again, the field mouse itself is a tangible evil to the farmer with his storehouse of grain. Fine, let's kill all the mice for the sake of the farmer and let the owls live. However, we have now destroyed a major source of food for the owl. Have we now become the embodiment of Evil to the owl?"

Maboroshi snorted in contempt. "This doesn't apply. You're merely rattling on about the course of nature. It has nothing to do with greater evils, such as demons and mononokes!"

Shouryuu raised an eyebrow at the younger man's unthinking rudeness, but the Doctor appeared not to notice, smiling at Shouryuu instead. "You are markedly silent during this discussion, Shouryuu. What do you think?"

Shouryuu met his gaze with a troubled frown. "You've given me a great deal to think about as usual, D…Bomen-san. Are you saying that we should remove ourselves from the battle between Good and Evil-- that we should decline to get involved?"

The Doctor stared for a moment before bursting out into peals of laughter. He laughed until he nearly cried, holding his sides. Maboroshi turned a startled look at Shouryuu, his eyes clearly showing his conviction that his senior had gotten mixed up with a madman. Shouryuu merely watched the Doctor in worried bewilderment.

Finally, the Doctor regained control of himself, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I beg your pardon!" he gasped. "It's just that I suddenly had a vision of the looks on the faces of the High Council if they ever heard me preaching non-involvement! Hah!" He struggled to keep from laughing again, finally winning the contest.

He cleared his throat, returning to his serious mode as suddenly as he had left it. "To answer your question, Shouryuu: no, I am not saying that we should turn away from Evil and let it run amok. Nor should we let sentient beings become oppressed if there's anything we can do about it. What I'm trying to warn you about is the danger of thinking that you can take on all the Evil in the Universe for the sake of the almighty Greater Good and escape unscathed. Also to warn you away from the blithe recklessness that increases the possibility of making a mistake that will come at very high cost to the innocent bystander."

Maboroshi shook his head. "You needn't warn us of the costs of fighting evil; we have already pledged our lives to this cause. We have also learned of the reality of unavoidable casualties. The lives of the innocent are often a necessary sacrifice in the battle against evil."

The Doctor's gaze grew dark. "You speak so lightly of such things: necessary sacrifices, acceptable losses!" He took a deep breath and once again regained control. "This is the very thing that most worries me about your academy," he remarked in a milder tone, "the willful adherence to the cause of the Greater Good that blinds you to the reality of the suffering of innocent beings caught in the middle of your battle. There is a quote by a famous philosopher in my favorite wor... er, country. 'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster...'"

Maboroshi stared in confusion, trying to sort out the foreign words in his head. But Shouryuu lifted his gaze from where he had been contemplating the ground and locked eyes with the Doctor. "I think I understand. If we enter into the battle against Evil over and over again--and use fire to fight fire, not caring about killing innocents in the process--then we will become that which we fight: monsters."

The Doctor shot him a beaming smile. "Excellent, Shouryuu! Perceptive as always!"

The younger student looked up, suddenly wanting Bomen-san's approval for himself. "But Bomen-san, does this mean that we should throw ourselves into battle without weapons, impaling our bodies on our enemy's spears? Won't that help Evil to win, as well as destroy us in the process?"

"Also very perceptive, Maboroshi! An excellent and _difficult_ question to answer. It has been answered in many ways through the ages, sometimes with self-annihilation, as you have asked, and sometimes with mass destruction. Both methods have succeeded...and failed, depending on the circumstances." The Doctor sighed. "Perhaps the best advice I can give you is to never lose sight of what should be your primary goal: not the destruction of evil but rather the preservation of life. So as you march into battle, take care to avoid trampling the very people you seek to protect…" his voice trailed off as he stared into the slanting rays of the sun.

Shouryuu spoke, gently breaking the Doctor's sudden trance. "Er, Bomen-san?"

The Doctor blinked, then turned to Shouryuu with his customary energy and good humor. "Yes, my boy!"

"Is there anything else you wish to tell us?"

The beaming smile was once again bestowed upon the two youths. "Yes! You're going to be late if you don't hurry!"

Maboroshi stared at the angle of the sun and hissed in dismay. "He's right, Shouryuu-senpai! Evening meditation will be starting soon!"

The elder student nodded at the boy. "Run ahead, Maboroshi-kun. I will catch up to you shortly." As the younger boy ran off, Shouryuu turned to his friend. "Tomorrow, then?" he inquired hopefully.

The Doctor fixed a serious look upon him. "Yes, but try to come without your young friend. There is something of importance I must tell you."

Shouryuu nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew that the Doctor couldn't remain by the river forever, but he dreaded the day when his new friend would continue on his travels. He was surprised by the feeling of desolation that suddenly seized him.

The Doctor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't be sad," he chided gently, as he had on their first meeting. "Perhaps you will be pleased with what I have to tell you. At any rate, your young friend waits impatiently, so we will continue this tomorrow."

Shouryuu smiled and gripped the Doctor's hand as it rested on his shoulder. "Until tomorrow, then," he breathed, then turned and walked towards the silhouette of Maboroshi as the boy gestured impatiently in the light of the setting sun.

****

The two young men strode swiftly towards the darkness at the junction where the thickly forested foothills met the gently rolling plains. Shouryuu lifted his ash staff and muttered a quiet spell at the slight shimmer that trembled in the air, barely visible in the increasing twilight. Suddenly the air swirled, dark shapes rapidly forming in the shimmer, then coming into focus as the shape of a large three-story compound solidified into reality. The youths ducked through the large, imposing gates, leaving the mystical shield to cloak the compound once again.

They hurried through the doors into the vaulted halls, speaking in low voices. "We are too late for the evening meditation; I will have to make our excuses to Magus-Sensei," Shouryuu murmured. He caught the younger student by the arm. "Maboroshi…" he trailed off, uncertain of what to say, never having needed to ask a favor of the youth before. Maboroshi looked up at him expectantly. Shouryuu plunged ahead, "About this afternoon--our mutual friend--could we keep this just between ourselves?"

Maboroshi's eyes shone at the thought of Shouryuu sharing a secret with him. "Of course, Shouryuu-senpai. You have my word."

Shouryuu laid a hand on the boy's shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you, Maboroshi-kun. I deeply appreciate your confidence."

The younger student beamed under his mask. Perhaps…perhaps this was the beginning of something profound between them. Perhaps they could become friends.

His pleasant daydream was interrupted by the creak of a heavy door opening. To his dismay, the Sensei stood before them in the doorway of his study, his tall form silhouetted in the light shining from his room.

The deep voice rolled over them like a breaking wave. "Ah, Shouryuu, Maboroshi. I am pleased that you made time to join us at last. We are appreciative of your efforts to fit us into your busy days. Do come in."

The two delinquent students crept into the room behind the imposing form of their master. Maboroshi glanced around at the ornate furnishings: the rich carpets, the intricate tapestries on the walls, the mysterious objects of brass or gold or crystal that rotated, dipped, or gyrated in mystical orbits. The Sensei seated himself behind a large, intricately carved desk and motioned for them to be seated before him.

Shouryuu paused before sitting to bow respectfully to his mentor. "Magus-Sensei." His tones were soft and apologetic. "Please excuse my rudeness in arriving late yet again. I would also like to take responsibility for the tardiness of Maboroshi. He accompanied me this afternoon on my wanderings and urged me back to the school, but my meandering pace slowed him so that he, too, failed to arrive on time. The fault is entirely mine."

Maboroshi stared at Shouryuu. He hadn't expected this! He'd never expected Shouryuu to cover for _him_. _Perhaps that is what friends do for one another, _thought the boy as he felt a sudden rush of warmth.

The pale, glittering eyes of the Master rested on them for one moment longer, then turned away, releasing them. "No matter," the deep voice murmured. "You are here now at a opportune time. You have the honor to be the first to be introduced to our newest student. Due to her considerable skills and experience, she is entering as an upperclassman. She will also contribute to your knowledge by teaching a few classes."

From the shadows behind the sensei stepped a small cloaked figure. She pushed back her hood to reveal long black hair shimmering with highlights of midnight blue. She wore the traditional black mask of the upperclassmen, its bottom edge resting near curved pink lips. The overall impression was that of a lovely girl in the full bloom of young womanhood--until Shouryuu caught a glimpse of the eyes behind the mask. They were pleasingly large and slanted, shining with a light gold, nearly yellow light, but there was something about them that sent a chill down his spine. He risked a closer look...yes, he was right. The light gold irises were just a shade too narrow, giving the eyes the look of a predatory bird. _Or a snake,_ thought Shouryuu, then firmly repressed his shivers, not wishing to alert Magus-Sensei to his discomfort. He rebuked himself for his reaction; who was he to judge someone on their personal appearance, especially in regard to their eyes?

To compensate for his mental rudeness, Shouryuu decided to introduce himself first and bowed deeply to the girl in respect. "Welcome," he murmured softly. "I am honored to make your acquaintance. My name is Shouryuu."

Maboroshi was startled at this breach of protocol but hurried to follow his senior's example, bowing equally as deep. "I am called Maboroshi. I also extend my welcome."

The girl looked from one to the other in intense interest. Just as her silence nearly crossed over into rudeness, she bowed quickly to them. "I am honored to meet you, Shouryuu-san, Maboroshi-san. You may call me Kurayami." Her voice was high-pitched but surprisingly raspy, giving it an almost androgynous tone.

Shouryuu was suddenly overcome with a sense of oppression. He frowned behind his mask and decided to ponder it in his own quarters. Perhaps it was due to the overwhelming number of problems he'd had to deal with today. He turned to the new student with another polite bow. "Kurayami-san," he murmured in polite acknowledgement. He turned to Magus-Sensei and bowed deeply again. "May I be excused, Sensei? I feel the need to complete my evening meditations."

The keen eyes regarded him carefully for a long moment before the mouth beneath the mask curved into a smile. "Of course, Shouryuu," the velvet tones responded gently. "We look forward to seeing you tomorrow at morning studies." Shouryuu bowed once again to everyone in the room and quickly exited, his cloak swirling around him in his rapid movement.

The golden eyes of the newest student followed him for a moment. She turned to Magus and gave a short bow. "I believe that I, too, will retire, Sensei. Thank you for your welcome." She made a cursory bow to the underclassman, then retreated through the door that stood behind Magus.

Maboroshi stood for a moment, nonplussed at being left alone in the room with his Master. He began to make his own farewell bow but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Maboroshi."

The young student froze, certain that the Sensei's wrath would fall at last, and he was the only one left to receive it. He lifted fearful eyes to the Sensei's mask while mentally cursing Shouryuu for abandoning him.

"Hai, Sensei?" he responded in a quavering voice.

"Please have a seat."

Maboroshi sat down nervously, glancing anxiously at the Sensei's eyes.

Magus spoke, his voice smooth and reassuring. "You needn't be nervous; I want only to commend you on the progress you've made since your arrival. You have worked hard at your studies, and any shortfalls in your techniques are compensated by your dedication to the principles of this school."

Maboroshi shifted in his seat, at once flattered by the praise and yet concerned by the gentle criticism. "Shortfalls?" he queried anxiously.

The sensei nodded, seating himself behind hid desk. "Nothing serious...as yet. We will attribute certain...weaknesses, shall we say? to youth and inexperience. However, I do hope to see significant improvement in this next term. There is, after all, a high level of competition for each seat in the school. I receive new petitions for entrance from eager would-be magicians every day." Magus indicated a small pile of scrolls on his desk.

The boy swallowed nervously. After all of his hard work, could he truly be in danger of losing his place? He shuddered at the thought of returning to his former life. "Magus-Sensei," he stammered. "I seek only to perform to the best of my abilities. If there is anything else you would recommend for me: more hours of training, longer periods of meditation--"

"As I said," the Master interrupted smoothly, "there is no need to be concerned as yet. I would like to reiterate that your dedication in adhering to the principles we teach is an inspiration to your fellow students. There are many ways to remain a valuable member of our academy--and helping wayward peers back into the embrace of their true calling is one of the most important."

Maboroshi paled. The Master knew! Somehow he _knew_ that Maboroshi had been seduced into considering the radical philosophies of Shouryuu's mysterious friend. The youth trembled, feeling sick. Why did he ever imagine that he could hide _anything_ from the Sensei?

Magus continued in his deep, velvety voice. "It is a true act of courage to act on the behalf of a fellow magician who may be struggling to understand the concepts that you grasp so easily. I myself could offer assistance to such a divided soul...if only I knew where to offer it. For that crucial information, I rely on people who have the courage to forge ahead on behalf of their peers. You see, too often people hesitate to summon help for another because of the fear of betrayal of that person's trust. But there are degrees of betrayal, Maboroshi--and the breaking of a confidence for the benefit of the confiding person is hardly a betrayal at all."

The youth felt sweat bead on his face beneath his mask. He knew perfectly well to whom the Master was referring. The Master knew all! Or maybe not all, but enough to know if he lied. Maboroshi gripped his hands together. "It's him or me," he whispered to himself. "Him or me." Tears rose in his eyes as he remembered Shouryuu's unexpected kindness this afternoon. All the elder student had asked in return for the gentle friendship was confidentiality. But then again...Shouryuu obviously thought that he had fooled the Master. 'He must have betrayed himself!' thought Maboroshi. 'The Master knew long before I did--so Shouryuu betrayed _himself!_' An unreasonable anger rose in the young man's breast. 'Why should _I_ suffer for his foolishness?! Why should _I_ be the one to pay the price for the trouble between the Sensei and his star pupil?'

Suddenly he was seized with the envy that always filled him when he saw people more fortunate than him. 'Star pupil!' he thought again in resentment. 'No matter how angry the Master may become with Shouryuu, he will never threaten _him_ with expulsion, because of the extent of his talents!' The familiar anger filled him as he remembered Shouryuu's past rejections. 'No, _I_ was never good enough for him; he was always too far above me. Pure of heart and mind--he's never known the pain that I've suffered!'

Maboroshi suddenly looked up into the Master's mask, realizing the man had sat quietly watching his internal struggles. And with that, he realized his silence had betrayed him. 'Him or me,' the young student thought bitterly...then began to speak.

"Sensei, I have reason to be concerned about Shouryuu-senpai. You see, there's this man..."

****

Maboroshi stood at the door, released after imparting all he knew. The Sensei's deep voice rumbled out once again. "A few last questions, Maboroshi. Did you sense anything unusual about this traveler? Perhaps a sense of...hidden power?"

The young magician shook his head. "No, he seemed to be an ordinary foreigner; nothing special."

"And you said he gave his name as Bomen-san; not Jon Sumisu...or perhaps Isha-san?"

"No, just Bomen-san, Sensei."

Magus breathed an internal sigh of relief. This traveler did not fit _ his_ description, as far as he knew. At any rate, the odds were a million to one that _he_ would ever find this pocket universe. _Enough of this paranoia!_ The Master thought to himself impatiently. He looked up at his young accomplice.

"Do you have any idea why this traveler is so interested in Shouryuu?" he inquired, hoping for some small piece of valuable information.

Maboroshi closed his eyes, his mind a swirling jumble of thoughts and emotions--anger, grief, resentment, envy. The knowledge that he'd just betrayed his one friend made him _hate _Shouryuu with a passion, _loathe_ him for being the cause of his guilt and loss. "They're lovers!" he burst out, wanting to damn Shouryuu in every last way, needing to drag him down in the eyes of the Sensei.

The Sensei's mystical eyes widened in surprise, but he kept his voice even. "You are certain of this?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes!" snarled the distraught youth. "I _saw_ them! It was...disgusting!"

Magus surreptitiously touched the outer surface of the young man's thoughts. Yes, the boy was truly upset; he must be speaking the truth. He struggled to suppress a sudden urge to laugh. So that's all it was: the infatuation of first love. Magus could have shouted in relief--this confirmed that the traveler could _not_ be _him._ _He_ was famous--or infamous--for his imperviousness to romantic entanglements.

Magus felt pleased with himself, the world in general, and Maboroshi in particular. "Well done, Maboroshi." His deep voice was at its most caressing. "I will not forget your contribution tonight. You may go now. We shall look forward to seeing you at morning studies."

Maboroshi bowed and left the room, puzzling over the raging conflict in his heart. He should be preening himself over the Sensei's praise--so why did he feel like crying? He shook himself in angry frustration, then strode swiftly towards his quarters, pushing the tormented thoughts away.

Back in the study, Magus sat back in his chair, still feeling pleased. The problem was much smaller than he thought; it shouldn't be that difficult to get Shouryuu back, especially once this traveler continued on his way.

"I wouldn't be so smug if I were you," rasped a familiar, high-pitched voice. The new student reappeared in the doorway behind his desk, her movements eerily smooth as if she floated above the floor. She dipped her head in a slight bow. "Sensei," she intoned in mocking respect.

The Master frowned at her. "Kurayami," he chided softly. "You will remember that you are still a student of this school and as such, owe me the proper gestures of respect. Your talents may be considerable, but no one is irreplaceable."

The girl bowed her head in submission but sent him a mocking glance from beneath her lashes. "No one--except for Shouryuu?" she queried.

"He is very valuable, yes, but I reiterate: _no one_ is irreplaceable."

The snakelike eyes narrowed further in amusement. "Do not be so hasty, honored Master. He is the very one you cannot afford to lose."

Magus leaned forward. "You seem certain of that. What is it that you see in him?"

"Very little, as a matter of fact. He shields himself with impressive adeptness. However, what one glimpses through the few tiny cracks in his armor is a power beyond any I have ever seen in any white magician before, and matches those of most dark sorcerers. He is a force to be reckoned with, Magus-san. He can either help your cause to triumph--or destroy it in its tracks."

Magus let out a long breath. "So I had suspected," he murmured thoughtfully. "I had seen the beginnings of this power in him eighteen months ago, but have not fully observed what the training has accomplished. He is quite sensitive to being read, you see, and I wished to keep his trust. But if he truly is this powerful, then it is essential that we bring him back into the fold. I hope that it will not be difficult; after all, he did believe in our cause whole-heartedly just a few months ago." The sensei sighed. "One would think that we wouldn't have lost him so easily to an obsession with a stranger, but I suppose that is inevitable when dealing with adolescents."

Kurayami narrowed her eyes, the predatory look taking over her features. "Somehow I do not detect the waves of physical infatuation emanating from him. If they are there, they are eclipsed by something more dangerous."

"And that is?"

"The ensnaring of his heart and mind."

Magus frowned. "We have very little time, then. We must bring him back as soon as possible to minimize the damage."

Kurayami produced a scroll from her cloak. "I may have the means here. This is a petition to you for help in a very difficult exorcism in a nearby village. I recommend that you allow me and Shouryuu to deal with it. If executed properly, it may well accomplish what you wish in showing him the importance of the school's mission. As for this mysterious traveler--we have no knowledge as to his interest in Shouryuu, other than the beauty of the youth, of course."

"So you noticed that, then, even with the cloak and mask…and the scars?" The deep voice rumbled in amusement.

Kurayami's narrow eyes flashed. "Do not mistake my perceptiveness for weakness, Magus-san. I am not touched by beauty; I merely note it as an important feature that has its uses--and misuses. Scarred or not, the boy is still attractive, and that may be a detriment to our mission. Perhaps I should rid us of this traveler who proves to be such a distraction."

The Sensei met the yellow eyes steadily, staring her down. "You know that it is against the tenets of the academy to permit random killing for no reason other than personal profit. I cannot condone the elimination of a man merely for the sake of our own advantage."

The snake-like eyes stared back at him before widening innocently. "I never mentioned killing him; I thought only of providing some encouragement for him to continue on his way."

Magus stared at her a moment longer, then sighed. "Very well...but I prefer to know nothing of this matter, and so I will claim if any of your actions come to light. We must adhere to our own principles if we expect the students to follow us."

The young woman bowed in acquiescence and left the room. Once alone in the corridor, she laughed softly in derision. "Magus-_Sensei_…" she hissed to herself. "You blind, pitiful fool!"

****

Back at the National Library in Tokyo

A different young woman in another place and time stared at the text in consternation. "That _bitch!"_ she swore in disbelief. "What is she planning?" She flipped back through the pages to see if she missed anything, and came across the passage detailing Maboroshi's accusation. Her eyes narrowed in anger. "That little SHIT!" she raged. "That slimy, back-stabbing, double-crossing, two-faced little _SHIT!"_ She tossed the book aside and began to pace, her anger filling her with nervous energy. Brushing her fingers through her short wavy hair, she pulled at the dark strands in frustration. "Damn it!" she swore. "There's _got _to be a way that I can warn them!"

Suddenly, she heard a loud creak from the corridor outside the References room. She quickly ducked behind the last row of bookshelves, curling up so as to remain hidden. The door opened, and she heard a male voice mutter testily to himself, "Left the lights on again - they always leave the lights on!" He clicked off the light switch and shut the door firmly. She sat in the darkness for a moment, listening to the security guard's footsteps fade away, then rose to her feet, feeling her way carefully to the door. She fumbled for the light switch, fighting feelings of panic as she encountered only smooth wall in the utter blackness of the room.

Moving her hands frantically up and down and all around the area, she finally encountered the switches significantly to the right of where she thought they would be. She flipped a switch and sighed in relief as the room once more clicked into view. Deciding that it might be a good idea to check her escape route, she tried the door--and found it firmly locked. Panic gripped her once again, and she pulled frantically at the doorknob. It rattled and wobbled but refused to give.

The girl slid down the wall and sighed in defeat. "Well, fuck me!" she muttered. She glanced over to the last row, where the book lay on the floor. She crouched down and picked it up. "If it's gonna be a long night, at least I have some good reading material," she sighed.

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Gakkou - school

Quotation reference:

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster,

And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche_, Jenseits von Gut und Bose_

****

Author's note: (8-23-02) **Very important announcement** - as of the next chapter, I am changing the rating of this story to **"M"** for the level of violence and trauma that will occur in that chapter. That means that this story will no longer appear on the default main page, which shows only K through T-rated fics. To find this story again, you will either need to change the setting on your main page to encompass fics through an "M" rating - or search under my name.

Anyway, very quickly: I would like to thank Aikido-chan and Kryssa for their beta-reading of this chapter - you guys are the best!

I've got to run, so this is a short AN (crowd: Yayyyyy! Roku: - -;) But yes, you read it right - much angst next time! Hard to believe, eh? Me--Roku--angst? Gimme a break!

Ja ne!

Roku


	5. Vortex of despair

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

**Warning:** Rating has been changed to "M" for extreme violence and horror in this chapter.

****

Chapter 5. Vortex of Despair

Clouds gathered in thick clumps in the western sky, obscuring the early afternoon sun and lending a feeling of oppressive dread to the atmosphere. The air felt heavy and stagnant, all of nature seeming to hold its breath in apprehensive anticipation of the oncoming storm. The stillness of the landscape threw into sharp relief the one moving object on its surface: the figure of a man crouched low over the neck of his galloping steed, his cloak swirling around him as he sped over the gently rolling hills.

He crested the last hill before the river and pulled up sharply, the sudden halt causing his horse to rear and plunge in protest. His eyes anxiously scanned the riverbank for motion. Finding none, he urged his mount down the hill to the river. They cantered up and down the riverbank, panic growing in the young man's breast as he found no sign of habitation. Finally overcome by his fears, the young man burst out, "Doctor! _Doctor!_," the calls as uncontrolled and panic-stricken as a child's.

Immediately, the rainbow fireflies of the Doctor's ki descended upon him, settling gently to soothe and hold him like a parent's strong arms lifting a lost child out of a crowd. He caught his breath in relief, then, pulling together the shreds of his self-possession, he followed the shimmering trail of the ki into a grove of trees nearly a quarter-league upstream of their usual meeting place.

Weaving his way through the trees, he noted the steady uphill rise of the land, the growth occasionally giving way to the sheer, stony walls of the backbone of the hill. He rounded a thick clump of sandalwood trees to find himself facing a steep embankment of granite against which was nestled the Doctor's campsite. Only then did he feel his anxiety begin to abate, as he looked around at the foreign objects and materials he now linked with the comforting familiarity of his friend. At that moment, he felt the strong presence of the man himself, and he looked up to see the Doctor stroll down the hillside path, leading a small shaggy horse of a type usually seen only in northern Hokkan.

"Ah, Shouryuu," called the Doctor, his eyes twinkling in genuine pleasure at the sight of his young friend. "I was hoping you would find me here. Good work!" He led the sturdy little horse to a lean-to next to his campsite and tied the reins loosely to a convenient branch.

Shouryuu dismounted, suddenly shy. He knew that the Doctor had to have known of his childish fit of panic, since he rescued Shouryuu by sending out his ki, yet the Doctor chose to leave him with his dignity by acting as if the young man had found him by his own efforts alone. The young magician flushed under his mask with a combination of gratitude and shame. He turned back to the Doctor after tying his horse next to the mountain pony. "You moved. I didn't know where you were, so I..." he broke off, embarrrassed.

The Doctor placed a comforting hand on Shouryuu's shoulder. "I would never leave without telling you, Shouryuu." The lilting voice reasssured him without a trace of condescension. "There is a storm of significant magnitude approaching within hours, and I felt it would be wise to move to higher ground, further back from the river." The blue eyes met his directly. "However, your fears aren't entirely unfounded."

Shouryuu felt his heart drop once again. Numb with desolation, he let the Doctor lead him to a fallen log. The Doctor sat, pulling Shouryuu down beside him and clasping the youth's hand between his own. Shouryuu dimly noted the coolness of the Doctor's skin; no matter what the ambient temperature might be, the Doctor's touch remained cool, alien, invoking images of distant exotic lands. Distant lands to which the Doctor was destined to return-- He fought back tears and struggled to control his voice.

"So you're leaving, then?" he asked, his voice soft, trembling with sadness.

"Not tonight, but soon thereafter, yes. Perhaps as soon as the weather clears." The azure gaze caught and held his. "There are others who will need me very shortly, and I must be making my way to them."

"I see," breathed Shouryuu. "Your work here is done, is that it?"

"No, not at all. You are not my work, Shouryuu; you are my young friend. And I feel that we are far from finished with one another."

Shouryuu turned his face to the Doctor in hope. "So you will come back?"

The Doctor sighed. "I wish I could tell you all that will happen, but unfortunately, I'm not the one pulling the strings of fate in this case. I honestly do not know all the turns in the road ahead. However, there is one thing I am certain of. I would like you to accompany me, Shouryuu."

The mystical eyes behind the mask widened in shock. "Me? Travel with you?" For a moment, the eyes grew bright with joy and wonder, imagining the life that lay before him. He could see himself traveling to distant lands, learning about foreign cultures and exotic customs, meeting and helping others along the way; all the while enjoying the companionship of a friend who respected him, stimulated his mind and challenged his intellect while remaining a caring confidant. "Heaven on earth," he whispered to himself--then felt the darkness of the past catch him in its cold embrace.

Visions of a storm-swept landscape passed before his eyes: churning water, a hand disappearing beneath the waves; two figures huddled together, their hair swirling and entangling with one another's in the receding waters--He choked aloud, once more consumed by guilt and grief. Who was he to deserve heaven on earth, he who had dealt death and allowed destruction to follow through neglect?

A hand reached out and gripped his, its touch cool in temperature but warm in compassion. "Stop this," the Doctor chided. "We none of us are perfect; that is why we need one another." Shouryuu bowed his head in shame but kept his hand in the Doctor's, drawing comfort from his friend's touch. He felt his own desire for self-punishment recede beneath the Doctor's understanding gaze, and once more felt hope glimmer faintly in his heart.

A sudden gust of wind stirred the leaves in the trees above, making them whisper and hiss as if sharing secrets about the humans below. The Doctor looked up, eyes narrowed in concentration as he almost seemed to sniff the air in suspicion. Even in the darkness of his thoughts, Shouryuu noticed the Doctor's tense alertness. "Doctor?"

The azure gaze was turned upon him, and the familiar reassuring smile made its appearance. "It's nothing," replied the Doctor. "But the storm is moving in quickly, and you should leave for home immediately." Shouryuu felt the tightening in his chest that occurred whenever the winds of monsoon began to blow, the feeling compounded by his apprehension at losing his one friend. The Doctor smiled at him once more. "I will not leave tonight, not with the storm moving in," he promised gently. "I'll wait here for your answer as long as I can--but as I mentioned before, I am not the one setting the schedule. So please, Shouryuu, think carefully about my offer--and make your decision as soon as possible." He rose and gazed around their surroundings, a frown of uneasiness darkening his features. "I think it would be best if you left now, without delay." The Doctor turned and placed a hand on Shouryuu's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. He looked into the young magician's mystical eyes. "Take care, my young friend, until we meet again."

Shouryuu nodded but was unable to reply due to the lump in his throat. He blinked back the tears in his eye, knowing that this might well be the last time he saw his friend. Suddenly, he abandoned all thought of control or dignity and flung himself at the Doctor's chest. Strong arms went around him, patting his back gently as he bit back his sobs. Waves of compassion swept over Shouryuu, comforting and calming him until he finally regained control over his emotions. He pulled back from the Doctor, filled with a sudden resolve as he looked up into the Doctor's face. "I will come back," he promised. "No matter what my answer is, I will come back and tell you in person."

The Doctor smiled at him. "I will be waiting, then, as long as I am able." The wind gusted stronger at that moment, lifting dead leaves to swirl around them. The Doctor gently pushed Shouryuu towards his horse. "Hurry, then. I don't want you to be caught...in the storm."

Shouryuu nodded, then mounted and spurred his horse towards the downward path. The Doctor held up a hand in farewell until Shouryuu disappeared around the first bend in the path. He turned back to his campsite, tapping his fingers against his chin. "What to do, what to do?" he mused silently. "Oh, that's right: act normal!" The Doctor began puttering around his campsite, picking up various supplies and storing them away.

Meanwhile, hidden deep within the trees, a small figure backed silently away from her vantage point above the campsite. Narrow yellow eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she retreated back down the hill, winding her way through hidden paths between the trees. "So that is your plan, most honorable traveler," she mocked in her thoughts. "You think that you will take him away with you, but little do you know that you will be the only one departing--and it will be tonight!"

****

Shouryuu stood at a side door to the compound, looking out into the early darkness, listening to the wind alternately moan and howl like a lost soul as it lashed the rain into the storm-tossed trees. He shuddered at the desolate sound, feeling anxiety and melancholy seep into his heart. He dreaded when the winds of monsoon began to blow; the dark power of the storms always brought back the bitter past, invoking feelings of pain, grief, loss... Tonight brought even more pain than usual, the possibility of another loss looming up before him.

He'd returned to the gakkou just ahead of the storm and sleepwalked through his late afternoon classes, then spent the evening meditation wrapped in his own thoughts. Magus-sensei had not commented on his dark pensiveness...nor had Maboroshi. In fact, the younger student had avoided him throughout the day; behavior so unusual in the youth that had Shouryuu not been caught up in his own troubles, he would have found the circumstances odd enough to investigate. As it was, however, he was merely vaguely grateful that he didn't need to fend off the attentions of his younger classmate, leaving him free to ponder his dilemma in relative peace.

Relative peace--except for the keen, assessing glances he kept receiving from his newest colleague. Kurayami had been presented to the rest of the student body in the late afternoon studies session and been welcomed politely into their midst. Due to the strict rules of privacy, there was none of the flurry of questions-and-answers that surrounded a new student in a normal school; in the school of the magicians, there was only acceptance of a person at face value instead of judgments made on family background or past experience.

_Face value,_ thought Shouryuu, shaking his head as he turned and walked the corridors back to his room. He'd felt uneasy under the focused gaze of those faintly mocking eyes. If Kurayami truly considered herself a step above the rest of the students, why did she evince any interest in him at all? Unless she considered him her foremost competitor. He snorted faintly to himself. If only she knew how eager he was to cede the battle to her, his most heartfelt desire being to leave the battlefield forever as he traveled to a new life.

"Shouryuu," rumbled the Sensei's deep voice behind him. The young magician jumped in guilty surprise, convinced that he'd just spoken his thoughts aloud. The master merely smiled faintly at his apprentice's startlement. "If you would join me in my study," he continued smoothly. Shouryuu bowed and followed him back to his ornate office, his heart sinking with every step.

Once there, Magus waved Shouryuu into a seat across from his desk, then studied his mystical eyes for a moment. "Shouryuu," the deep voice murmured gently, "something is troubling you."

Shouryuu raised startled eyes to the sensei's mask. The pale, glittering eyes of the mask creased briefly in amusement. "No, I have not been reading your ki. But I must tell you that you've been broadcasting your distress so openly, some of the youngest students have inquired anxiously after your welfare."

Shouryuu lowered his eyes in embarrassment. He'd no idea that he had been so obvious; of course, he was popular with many of his younger classmates for his gentle manner of instruction, so it wasn't unexpected that they would notice his sudden distraction these past weeks. "I'm sorry, Magus-sensei," he apologized, noting that he seemed to be constantly apologizing to the master in recent days.

"Tell me, Shouryuu; are you...unhappy here?"

Shouryuu stared down at his hands in his lap. The passionate part of him wanted to leap up and shout, "Yes! Yes, I'm miserable! Let me go!" but the responsible, higher-thinking part forced him to keep silent as he carefully thought over his answer. Suddenly, a recent exchange with the Doctor reverberated through his mind.

_"Remember, Shouryuu, it is always best to tell the truth. Much easier to keep track of that than the invariably more complicated lies. However, circumstances may advocate that you tell as _little_ of the truth as possible..." The blue eyes had twinkled at him mischievously._

He brought himself back to the present, not wishing to insult Magus-sensei with his silence. He pushed thoughts of the Doctor out of his mind, focusing on when exactly he had found himself growing dissatisfied with the school of the mages. The answer stood out clear in his mind: it was the second time he had utilized the soul-destroying power.

It had taken months of study to learn the tenets of the soul-destroying magic, and several weeks of practice to learn how to wield that ultimate spiritual weapon. The first time he'd used it--on an annoying but ultimately less-than-lethal demon--he'd been overcome by feelings of triumph in mastering the spell. The fierce killing joy had masked his inner suffering and sickness after the spell had been cast. The second time he'd used it, however, the subsequent feelings of weakness and nausea were impossible to ignore. His conscience began to nag him about the ethics of destroying an actual soul across all planes of existence. Good or bad, right or wrong, was he truly qualified to pass judgment on the darkness of another soul? His own guilt and self-doubt added to the physical after-effects of the draining magic. He'd tried to approach Magus-sensei with his concerns about the spell, but the elder mage had been so pleased with Shouryuu's skill that he had dismissed his hesitant questions with enthusiastic expressions of confidence and congratulations.

Perhaps now the sensei was willing to listen. "Magus-sama," he began, softly and respectfully. "I've been so grateful for you taking me in and giving me something to live for, something to believe in...but I must be honest with you and with myself. Lately, I've been struggling with some of the requirements of my training. Lately, it has become more _difficult_ to live up to expectations."

The pale eyes of the Master fixed on his apprentice's mask. "Can you be more specific, Shouryuu?" he inquired, trying to keep frustration out of his voice.

Shouryuu met his master's gaze directly. "It's the soul-killing magic. It diminishes me..." his voice trailed off uncertainly.

Magus widened his eyes in amazement. "You feel it is beneath you?" he asked in incredulity. He wondered if Shouryuu had come to realize the extent of his powers, and if he now felt his training to be a waste of time.

Shouryuu shook his head. "No, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that it takes something away from me. It makes me feel somehow...thinner, weaker; as if I were losing substance, as if I were...diminishing."

Magus steepled his fingers and rested his chin on the tips, deep in thought. He was glad for the mask that concealed his sudden uncertainty from Shouryuu. Could he be telling the truth? Magus gave an internal shake of his head. Of course he was. Shouryuu strove to be truthful, and when he felt compelled to deceive--as in the case of his secret meetings with the traveler--he was singularly inept, allowing even the false eyes of his mask to give away his guilt.

He himself had seen Shouryuu withdraw into solitude after eliminating a demon, sometimes rushing off with such haste that Magus now wondered if the youth had become physically ill. He had never expected this of Shouryuu, principally because the youth was so skilled at the soul-destroying magic, far ahead of any other student at the gakkou. If he were to be completely honest, Shouryuu's abilities in that particular arena outstripped his own. Overpowering and physically killing demons were skills that most of the students would acquire during their tenure at the gakkou, and although risky, were fairly easy techniques to employ if one followed the precautions as taught. The destruction of a soul, however, involved the killing of a powerful life force over many planes of existence, thus requiring a power that could cross dimensions and timelines, yet remain within the control of the magician who wielded it. A precarious and difficult combination to find: ultimate power coupled with maximum control.

Shouryuu probably believed himself to be Magus' first student-apprentice, but that was sadly untrue. There had been two other young magicians in whom Magus had invested his time and energy. The first had slipped up while performing the soul-destroying magic against a demon with the ability to mirror his opponent's powers. The demon had reflected the spell back at the young magician, utterly destroying him for all eternity. Magus felt his heart clench in grief as he thought of that hopeful young man. The second had been a fierce and vibrant young woman who had wielded the power with enthusiasm and skill. But something had happened in her third exorcism; she'd destroyed the demon but then couldn't seem to stop killing. His two younger apprentices fell victim to her deadly bloodlust before Magus had been forced to stop her...permanently. He'd nearly given up at that point, despairing of ever finding the psychic warrior he so desperately needed, until he detected the intriguing ki force emanating from an area in the north of Konan.

The force had radiated outwards in all directions, telling of white magic power of impressive magnitude; raw power that was becoming tinged with black as the wielder fell deeper into a pit of despair. Magus had rushed to the area, finding Ri Houjun at the center of this ki force, bleeding, grieving, gathering his energy together to finish himself off. He'd pulled the despairing youth from the ruins of his village, tending his wounds and trying to assuage his pain. Magus had no experience in comforting young emotional humans, so he did the only thing he knew: he diverted the youth's self-destructive impulses into a moral cause, imbuing him with a strong sense of purpose. However, suddenly it seemed that this sense of purpose was faltering.

Magus frowned behind his mask. This was a far more serious problem than Shouryuu's infatuation with the itinerant traveler. Perhaps the time spent with the traveler was just an outward manifestation of the young magician's dissatisfaction with the entire mission. Kurayami's statement last night confirmed his own suspicion. Shouryuu _was_ the critical element in his strategy, the psychic prism through which the all of the powers of the entire student body could be combined and focused in a single lethal dimension-crossing beam.

Yet Shouryuu must participate of his own free will; a reluctant weapon was a dangerously unstable factor in any battle. He must be brought back in such a way that he no longer questioned the purpose of their crusade, and he must be made to believe in the importance of mastering the soul-killing magic. Magus knew of Shouryuu's pain--he could even empathize with it--but no amount of empathy could be allowed to interfere with the greater goal of the mission.

He looked at the young magician who waited patiently for his reply, lost in his own thoughts. "Shouryuu…perhaps I've erred in allowing you to use the soul-destroying magic without making sure that you understood _all_ the ramifications of wielding such power. Power such as that draws from our own life force, so it is not unexpected that you should feel somewhat diminished by its use. However, the symptoms are only temporary and seem to have no lasting effect, so perhaps I just assumed that you would not be overly troubled by these side-effects."

Shouryuu hung his head, suddenly ashamed of his complaints. He felt like a whining child unable to bear the least discomfort. Something deep inside him whispered '_The Doctor_ _never made you feel like this,_' but he pushed that voice away, sitting up straighter. "My apologies, Magus-sensei. I did not mean to sound ungrateful. I will strive to master my weakness."

Magus went on, satisfied at Shouryuu's response. "I'm sure that you don't mean to be ungrateful. I will remind you, however, that you came here seeking purpose in your life, a way to atone for past…failures." Shouryuu flinched at the reminder, but the sensei continued mercilessly. "We are just beginning to enter into the last phase of your training, preparing you for the ultimate battle against evil. I will be honest with you, Shouryuu; I do not speak of some vague future possibility, but a very real threat that is destined to arrive in this world before another year passes!"

Shouryuu's mystical eyes widened. "You_ sense_ something, Magus-sama?"

"Yes! Why else do you think I am driving all of you so hard? We must be prepared to fight, or be prepared to die! There is no other choice and very little time. So if the defense of your home wor…_country_ means so little to you, you may withdraw at your discretion. The sooner I know who I can--and _cannot_--rely upon, the better!" He twisted the knife once more. "You've worked very hard here, Shouryuu; no one would say that you haven't already done more than enough to atone for the past."

Shouryuu hung his head again, obviously fighting back tears. "Nothing..." he murmured, biting back a sob, "...nothing I do will ever atone for that." He finally won control over his emotions, lifting his mask and meeting the Master's gaze. "I apologize one last time, sensei. I promise that you will never need to remind me of my duty again. From now on, I live only for our cause."

****

Later that same night, high up in the hills above the now raging river, a cloaked figure observed the Doctor's campsite, a muttered spell shielding her against the worst of the elements. The strange cloth walls of the Doctor's small tent fluttered and rippled in the gusts of the storm wind but held fast to their curved light metal poles. All seemed still and peaceful within the tent, the glow of lamplight shining between the seams of the walls. Finally, the light went out, leaving the single inhabitant in darkness.

The watcher held her position for another thirty minutes with the patient attentiveness of a spider before withdrawing her hand from her cloak. In her hand, she gripped the wide skull of a large, weasel-like creature that resembled a wolverine, one of the few creatures in nature that seemed to enjoy killing for its own sake instead of just for sustenance. She set the skull on the ground and breathed a spell. The skull duplicated itself once, then again, so that there were now four wide flat skulls lying in a row, the vicious pointed fangs and empty eye sockets seeming to leer in menace. She began chanting a longer spell, utilizing many guttural words with double glottal stops. A dark mist rose up to obscure the skulls, swirling around them, thick tendrils billowing out at odd intervals. Beneath the roiling mist, the skulls began to change, growing and expanding, forming bodies and limbs, resulting in thick, stocky creatures over five feet in length. They growled and snarled and slashed their fangs into the gusting wind, their thick fur rippling ovet their heavily muscled bodies. Four sets of feral yellow eyes turned to the equally feral gaze of their creator, her narrow eyes tilting up in glee.

"There, my pretty ones," she purred to the demon wolverines, indicating the Doctor's tent. "There is your prey. Go now and feed!"

The four shapes glided swiftly between the trees, their snarls rising in excitement as they converged on their prey. They slashed silently at the cloth of the tent, the material falling away instantly before the razor edges of their fangs and claws. Their creator watched in triumph as they leaped upon the recumbent form, slashing and tearing it to pieces before it could make a single outcry of pain or surprise.

The storm intensified, the needle-like raindrops managing to penetrate the shield of the magician. She turned away from the scene with reluctance, sending out one last message to her creatures to return to her when they were completely finished with their task.

Kurayami picked her way down through the trees, her features smug with satisfaction. "One problem disposed of," she gloated to herself. "Sayonara, Honorable Traveler." Mounting her horse, she spurred it back towards the hidden compound to the west.

Perched on the cliff above the campsite, another cloaked and hooded figure watched the activities of the demon wolverines with interest. "Crude," he muttered as he watched the mindless beasts slash at his bedding and the rolled bundle of cloth that had rested in his sleeping bag. "Yet ultimately effective," he amended, watching as the down feathers flew up from the fangs and claws. "So the battle has been entered in earnest--but who is this new combatant in the lists? Is she the instrument of the Master Magician, or does she have her own agenda?"

The Doctor smirked at the rising frustration in the growls of the demon creatures as they failed to find the flesh and blood they so eagerly sought. "Not the sharpest tools in the shed, are they?" he mocked before suddenly noting a change in the pitch of their snarls. He found himself looking down into the feral yellow gazes of the four creatures as they flared their nostrils, finally catching his alien scent.

"Oh, bother!" cursed the Doctor. "Time for Plan B!" and he turned and darted through the trees as the demon wolverines raised their voices in the joy of the hunt.

****

The day dawned bleak and grey, the rain and wind continuing to lash the landscape. Shouryuu picked at his breakfast, finding no interest in food or any of the other pleasures of life. He forced himself to actively participate in morning studies, remembering Magus' gentle rebuke that even the youngest students were taking notice of his withdrawal and depression. Shouryuu frowned as he tried to concentrate. This was his life now, the life he had chosen, the life he...deserved. He couldn't turn away from his responsibilities as an upperclassman and an example to his younger colleagues, just because he felt his last chance at happiness escaping him, swept away with the howling wind. He blinked back the tears behind his mask. This afternoon, he would go out into the storm and find the Doctor as he had promised--and say good-bye.

He continued on his way through the winding corridor, lifting his chin, hiding his pain. Suddenly, he felt a chilly presence behind him. Turning around, he met the narrow yellow eyes of the newest student.

"Shouryuu-san."

"Kurayami-san," he replied, discomfited by her penetrating stare.

"Magus-sensei requests our presence in his study," she informed him curtly, then turned to lead the way.

Shouryuu followed, frowning behind his mask at her abrupt directness that seemed to cross over into rudeness. He was hardly one to demand courtesies being paid to his upperclassman status, but her confidence bordering on arrogance provoked his curiosity, making him wonder what relationship she held with Magus-sensei that permitted her to cross the bounds of respectful behavior expected from the other students.

They arrived at the Master's study, knocked, and were granted entry. The dark visage of the sensei regarded them both. "Shouryuu, I have a task for you," he said, wasting no time in polite small talk. He held out a small scroll. "I've received a request for the school's help in an exorcism, a request sent by the miko of a neighboring village in the foothills. I would like you to take care of this matter for me, and to accept the assistance of Kurayami. She has some experience in these techniques, but I would like her to stand as your second and observe the methods employed by our gakkou. You must travel to our shrine in town, where the involved parties await you. Do you have any questions?"

Shouryuu was slightly surprised at the fact that only Kurayami was to accompany him; usually, Magus-sensei preferred observing exorcisms himself, ready to step in if needed. He also usually sent a few underclassmen to observe and gather experience. Perhaps Magus was trying to show Shouryuu that he had faith in his abilities. Shouryuu bowed in gratitude. "No, Sensei, everything is perfectly clear." He failed to notice Kurayami's eyes flash in triumph.

The Master did take notice, however. "And you, Kurayami. Have you any questions?"

"No, Magus-sensei," she replied respectfully, although her lips curved in amusement. "I will be honored to..._learn_ from Shouryuu-senpai."

The Master frowned at the slight mockery in her tone. "You would do well to learn from him, Kurayami; make no mistake," he rebuked softly.

Kurayami bowed, apparently abashed. "Forgive me if I implied otherwise, Magus-sensei, Shouryuu-senpai. I am grateful for this opportunity."

Shouryuu sighed very softly. Try as he might, he could not shake his distrust of Kurayami, distrust that was giving rise to dislike. He frowned behind his mask as he remembered his previous plans for the afternoon. Well, it couldn't be helped; the exorcism took precedence over any personal time that he may have desired. He could only hope that it wouldn't take all day, and if it did, he could only hope that the Doctor could wait another day for his reply. He forced back his grief once again. Even if the Doctor couldn't wait, it made no difference, since Shouryuu's reply would send him on his way alone, anyway.

A short time later, two masked and cloaked figures left the compound, cantering through the rain on their mounts. The thunder and lightning had ceased for the time being, but rain continued to fall, gusts of wind occasionally whipping slivered needles of moisture against their masks. They turned towards the north, traveling over the foothills towards the prosperous town that lay nearly four leagues away. As they trotted over the bridge arching over the small river that wound around the town, Shouryuu noticed the swirling, rushing waters rising just short of the banks, and felt a moment of gratitude that the Doctor had had the foresight to move away from his portion of the river. He forced the Doctor out of his mind, gathering his thoughts and beginning the meditation that helped prepare him for spiritual battle.

The Temple of the Four Gods stood near the center of town, rain dancing off its curved roof and running down the elaborate carvings on its ornate doors. Shouryuu sighed in relief; he loved the shrine with its hushed interior fragrant with the scent of holy incense, the light of oil lamps dimly gleaming off artful representations of the Four Gods. Kurayami kept silent behind him, assuming her role as his assistant without her usual mockery. They had just shed their rain-soaked outer cloaks in the alcove when a figure moved towards them from the interior of the sanctuary.

He was small and very short, the top of his shaved head just reaching Shouryuu's shoulder. Even Kurayami stood a few inches taller than him. His short stature was that of a child's, but his eyes were wise with experience, their wrinkles showing his advanced age. Those eyes now sparkled with delight as he greeted the two young magicians.

"Welcome, welcome!" he cried out, as Shouryuu and Kurayami bowed deeply in respect.

"Oshou-sama," replied Shouryuu with genuine affection, "thank you for making us welcome in your shrine once again."

The small monk waved his hands in pretend agitation, signaling them to keep their voices down as his eyes sparkled in merriment. "We have visitors!" he whispered, then spoke loudly. "Yes, the rest of the students have finished their studies and returned to their rooms. You are free to proceed."

Shouryuu's glittering eyes softened in gratitude. The temple master, Oshou-sama, allowed Magus-sensei to use the Temple of the Four Gods as a front for the school of young magicians, understanding the importance of concealing the school's true location from evil entities who might wish to strike at the students before they completed their training. As a result, the temple also served as the place where hopeful would-be magicians submitted petitions for entry, and where others petitioned the magicians for spirtual help in their troubles.

Shouryuu hung back for a moment. "Oshou-sama," he requested gently, "would you be so kind as to help Kurayami-san gather materials suitable for an exorcism? I would like some time alone to meditate."

The temple master beamed. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "I was fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of Kurayami-san earlier this week; it will be a pleasure to assist her." Kurayami bowed politely, to Shouryuu's relief. Oshou-sama hesitated one moment. "Should I expect Magus-sensei to join you here?" he asked.

"No." The brief reply came from Kurayami. She bowed before the hard glint in Shouryuu's mystical eyes, the look warning that he would tolerate her insolence towards himself but not towards the kindly monk. "I'm sorry," she apologized to Oshou-sama, "but Magus-sensei is quite occupied with matters of great importance; he cannot attend us here but trusts in your ability to oversee our activities."

The monk beamed at her again, taking no offense at her abruptness. "The students of Magus-sensei require little or no help from me," he asserted, leading her towards the small storeroom to the side of the inner sanctuary.

Shouryuu moved among the statues of the Four Gods in the outer sanctuary, lighting sticks of incense before each one. Although Suzaku was the patron god of Konan, this temple paid respect to all of the seikun, the temple master wisely deciding that intervention from any of the four gods could be nothing but beneficial to the citizens of Konan. The temple also served as a comforting place of worship to any immigrants from the other regions of the world, giving them the chance to commune with representations of their patron gods, no matter their country of origin.

Magus-sensei neither encouraged nor discouraged his students from prayers to their patron god. He himself did not seem to believe in the powers of any of the seikun, but he had no objection to his students paying respect to the god of their choice.

Shouryuu stopped before the statue of Suzaku, lighting the last stick of incense with a trembling hand. He prostrated himself before the upraised wings of phoenix-god, placing his hands and forehead on the floor and breathing out a brief, unformed prayer. "_Onegai,_" he murmured. "Please...", uncertain of what exactly he was asking for. Since earliest childhood, he had been brought up to place his faith in the crimson phoenix-god with good reason, but ever since the terrible events of eighteen months ago, he felt ashamed before the god of his youth. He deserved nothing from Suzaku now--not forgiveness nor intervention nor even acknowledgment of his existence. He felt certain that Suzaku wanted nothing more to do with him; it was only a matter of time before the seikun enacted his final rejection, and the mark of his favor fade from his once-disciple's body.

Shouryuu forced back the bitterly familiar feeling of despair. This was not the time for him to engage in self-recriminations or self-pity, but to mentally strengthen himself for the upcoming battle. His prayer to Suzaku suddenly took form. "Not for me," he prayed. "But please help and protect the others in this undertaking. Help me to succeed for their sake, not mine." Rising from his prone position, he moved towards the inner sanctuary, once again filled with a sense of purpose and focus.

Oshou-sama and Kurayami awaited him there, along with several unfamiliar people. A woman approached him and bowed. She was middle-aged, with lines of wisdom and experience etched on her delicate features. Her slender form was clad in the ceremonial robes of her office.

"Thank you very much, my lord magician," she softly addressed Shouryuu. "I deeply appreciate your assistance in this matter."

Shouryuu bowed in return. "If you could tell me the circumstances," he prompted.

The miko sighed and met his compassionate gaze. "My name is Midori. I am the miko of Koudan, a tiny village which lies to the north. There have been disappearances in our small village in the last month; we've lost four of our young maidens to some strange beast that took them from their homes, tore them apart and..." she paused, "...consumed them; parts of them." She rushed on as if fleeing the grisly images. "I set up demon wardings each night around the perimeter of our village, but the murders continued in spite of the wards standing undisturbed. It was then I realized the threat came from _within_ our ranks. We began to search all homes for signs of connection with these crimes--and found only one person who could be responsible." Midori-sama raised tear-filled eyes to Shouryuu's mask. "But I knew that he could not _truly_ be responsible. I've known him all of his life, and a kinder, gentler soul you will never find! I knew that it must be a case of demon possession." Her features twisted in bitter memory. "I managed to prevent the villagers from killing him, but only on the condition that I bring him to you. I could have performed a simple exorcism myself, but the headman of the village insisted that I bring him here for you to destroy this demon _utterly._ You see, one of the defiled maidens was his beloved daughter." She shook her head in despair. "There's so much pain in my village and no true way to assuage it. All I can do is beg your assistance so that no more innocents are hurt."

Shouryuu's heart sank at her words. So this was not a simple exorcism, but the soul-destroying magic he dreaded. Midori-sama was right, however; if the headman were prostrate with grief, nothing less than the complete and utter destruction of the demon would satisfy him. Shouryuu knew enough of human nature not to argue about the decision of the village elders.

"Very well," he conceded regretfully. "But you must understand: there are great risks associated with this technique, terrible risks to both the body and soul of the possessed person. I want you to be certain that this is the only solution you will accept."

The miko met his glittering gaze. "I have no other choice," she whispered.

"I understand. You may bring forth the afflicted man."

Lady Midori turned and signaled to the other figures in the shrine. Two people stepped forward, dragging a reluctant body between them. Shouryuu gazed into the face of the possessed villager--and felt his heart plummet. "Oh, dear Suzaku!" he burst out before he could stop himself.

****

The man was heavily built and muscular, but the eyes that widened at the sight of Shouryuu's mask held the innocent, fearful gaze of a child. The young man was obviously simple, his wide-set eyes and heavy bulky body indicating a fairly common form of birth defect. He began to weep in fear, and Shouryuu felt something in his own heart contract in sympathy.

Shouryuu turned to the miko in horror. "This type of exorcism requires the participant's full cooperation! Do you believe that this man is capable of truly understanding what he must go through?"

Lady Midori sighed in frustration. "I suspected as much and tried to explain this to the headman, but received the same answer as before. The demon must be completely destroyed by you--or they will take the matter into their own hands." She reached out and placed a gentle hand on the simple man's head, calming him with her compassionate touch. "I've known Toumo for nearly all of his life. He is incapable of harming anyone of his own volition." Her gaze hardened. "I admit to my own feelings of vengeance; this boy is as much a victim of the demon as those poor girls! A creature of immense evil that feeds off innocence should not be allowed to survive!" She regained control of her emotions. "However, if you feel that you cannot perform this exorcism, I will take Toumo away from here and perform a simple exorcism myself. Where I will settle him to hide him from the villagers' wrath, I have no idea; there are few places that will accept a simple man, let alone one with his past history."

"You needn't fear; the exorcism will be performed as requested."

Both Midori-sama and Shouryuu looked up, startled at the high-pitched, raspy voice that spoke with such confident assurance. Kurayami moved out of the shadows, where she had listened silently to the miko's tale. "Magus-sama has sent you his assurances that we will do whatever is necessary to eliminate this demon." She presented a small scroll to the miko, who unrolled it and read it with obvious relief.

Shouryuu moved towards Kurayami and pulled her aside. "What are you doing?" he hissed in a whisper. "We can't do this! This man is obviously unable to understand what is going on. How can we expect him to fight alongside us? We must either refuse her, or at least put her off until I have an opportunity to consult with Magus-sensei."

The snakelike yellow eyes narrowed further in amusement. "Magus-sensei is already aware of this problem. He first received word of this when I arrived earlier this week. I had gathered the petitions from this temple before proceeding on to the school. He's pondered the problem for the last two days and come to the conclusion that you were the best person to handle this complex situation. He has faith in you, Shouryuu-san; the question is, do you have faith in yourself?"

Shouryuu glared at her mockery before looking away. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps this was Magus' way of testing if his young apprentice really intended to stand by the vow he had made last night. If he backed down from this difficult soul-destroying exorcism, it was as good as saying that his vow was nothing more than empty words. He gritted his teeth, then turned back to the miko, trying to conceal all signs of his agitation. "Midori-sama, would you permit me to speak with Toumo-san for a few moments?"

She nodded and led him back to the simple man, who cringed back from the sight of Shouryuu's dark visage. Shouryuu reached out a gentle hand towards the man. "Toumo," he spoke softly, "will you take my hand?"

The larger man whimpered. "I don't like your face. It doesn't move. I'm scared!"

Midori-san put a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's just a mask, Toumo; do you remember the one you wore at the last festival? This is the same thing."

"Then let him take it off!"

Shouryuu sighed gently. "I'm sorry, Toumo, but I can't. It's part of my duty to wear it. But let me assure you that I do have a face underneath it." The bitter thought crossed his mind: _'Yes, and that would frighten him even more than the mask!'_

He was diverted from his dark thoughts by a large hand warmly clasping his own. "That's all right," Toumo reassured him. "Don't be sad."

Shouryuu was startled by the insight of the simple man. Could he be one of those people who possessed the natural ability to read the ki of another? If so, perhaps this exorcism would go more smoothly than he hoped.

He began again. "Toumo, I want to be your friend. I want to help you chase away the bad thing. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

The large man's eyes filled with tears. "The bad thing--the mononoke. He hurt the pretty girls," he sobbed.

"Yes, you're right. We have to make him go away. Will you help me?"

The wide, tearful eyes met his. "Yes! I wanna help! Help make it go away!" His voice darkened. "Make it _die_!"

Shouryuu frowned behind his mask. "Toumo, you must try not to think like that. Those kinds of thoughts give the mononoke its strength. I need you to help me by thinking about things you love. What do you love, Toumo?"

Toumo frowned as he pondered the question, then looked up with a triumphant smile. "I love red bean cakes!" he announced. Shouryuu heard a snort of amusement from the shadows in which Kurayami stood. He sent a warning glance towards her corner, then fixed his attention on Toumo again.

"Very good," he approved. "But is there anything else you love more than bean cakes?"

"Anoooou… my kitty! Tama-chan! He's black with a white spot right on his nose! If you touch the white spot--ver-y-gent-ly--he purrs!"

Shouryuu smiled widely. "Very, _very_ good, Toumo! Now listen carefully: I'm going to do some things like make some smoke with the incense here," he pointed at incense in their burners before the statues, "and wave my stick like so," carefully rotating his ash staff, "and say some funny words that you won't understand, but you mustn't laugh. You may feel a little sick or may feel something pulling on you, but you mustn't be frightened. You must think very hard about Tama-chan and bean cakes and anything else you love. Do you understand me?"

Toumo beamed. "Yes!" He became excited. "Oh, yes! I just remembered something else I love: Midori-sama! I love Midori-sama, too." The miko smiled back at him, her eyes filling with tears. He went on, looking up at the kind young magician. "And I think…I think maybe I could love you, too."

Shouryuu swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "Thank you, Toumo. Perhaps when this is all over, we could be friends. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Toumo. "I don't have many friends."

"Neither do I," replied Shouryuu very softly. He turned to Oshou-sama who was standing quietly nearby. "Oshou-sama, could you please provide us with some prayers? Your spiritual help would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course," replied the small monk. "Although I must say that you seem to have all the spiritual strength you will need."

Shouryuu smiled at him in gratitude before turning to Midori-sama. "My lady miko, I must ask that all of your helpers leave the inner shrine. This is a very dangerous procedure, and only those with spiritual or psychic shields may remain."

The miko nodded and dismissed her serving girls and the men who had been guarding Toumo. Now only she, Toumo, Oshou-sama and the two magicians remained in the inner shrine.

Shouryuu looked back towards the shadows. "Kurayami-san, if you please?" he asked with a polite bow. He was determined that her customary insolence would not cause him to forget his own manners.

Kurayami walked forward with the sacred incense and demon wards, her head bowed in submission. Shouryuu gave a mental shrug at her change in demeanor, deciding to be grateful for what little propriety she chose to display. Gliding silently around the temple, she lit the sacred incense in a circle around Toumo, then placed demon wards upon his clothing, keeping well away from his face. He trembled in fear but remained staunchly in place. Kurayami handed a demon ward to each person present. The priest and priestess fastened them onto their robes, as did Shouryuu. She continued on to paste demon wards onto the doors and walls of the shrine.

Shouryuu walked up to Toumo and gave him a reassuring smile. "Are you ready, my friend?" he asked softly. Toumo nodded, his eyes wide and serious. "Then let us begin."

Oshou-sama began to read a sutra from an ancient scroll. Shouryuu closed his eyes, gathering his strength as the sacred words seemed to form tangible shapes in the swirling smoke of the incense. He began to feel the stirrings of _jaki_--evil power--as the demon within Toumo began to awaken. Shouryuu began to rotate his ash staff slowly, turning it in the directions of the four gods, gathering power with every deliberate rotation. He felt Kurayami move up on his left side--his blind side--and felt a brief shiver of apprehension until he heard her chanting the spells that would provide the underlayment for his own, more powerful spells. The _jaki _stirred harder, and Toumo's eyes suddenly flared red.

Shouryuu openly sent forth his ki to investigate the mononoke. He sensed great evil, although thankfully no great cunning; this was not an ancient demon but rather a ravening spirit foolish in its relative youth, probably less than a half-century old. "And to grow no older," Shouryuu vowed to himself, turning his staff to rotate now between the pillars of heaven and the corners of the earth.

Toumo's features contorted in demonic rage as Shouryuu directed the exorcising power of the staff towards him. The demon tried to leap out and attack, dark forms pulling outward from Toumo's gaping mouth, but the sacred incense held him fast in the circle, and the demon wards paralyzed Toumo's body so that it was unable to move. The demon then decided to retreat into its host's body, but Shouryuu began his exorcising chants.

The words were strange and guttural, rhythmic and menacing. The darkness flowed out of the simple man as the staff increased in the speed of its rotations. Shouryuu felt the killing power flowing through him. Some deep part of him seemed to pull back in atavistic horror, but a surge of energy overcame his inner revulsion, lifting him into a state of near ecstasy. The staff flew around and around, drawing darkness from the shadowed corners of the temple, surrounding Shouryuu until all that could be seen of his features were the mystical, glittering eyes of his mask. He held onto his consciousness with an iron grip, making himself concentrate on separating the mononoke from the man, forcing it clear so that he could blast it into eternal nothingness.

Suddenly something _shifted_, and he nearly stumbled. There was another force joining with his--but from where? Still caught in the middle of the soul-destroying spell, he strained to make out the source of the other power. Was there something different in the accompanying chants coming from Oshou-sama or Kurayami? He couldn't tell, still fighting for control in the vortex of the dark power.

Once again, he felt the touch of unfamiliar power--and suddenly it _ invaded_ him, flowing through his body, touching him _everywhere_ . He nearly screamed aloud at the violation; he gasped and sobbed but couldn't stop, he couldn't _stop!!_ Finally he decided to abandon the killing power; the exorcism would be a failure, but he didn't care! He had to get _away _from this violating force, he had to get _OUT! _Just as he relinquished his grip on the magic, the force leaped forward in him, taking him over, a distant voice screaming "_Shi ne!"_ in his head.

His ash staff snapped at Toumo, exploding with spears of black light. The simple man screamed as blood burst from his eyes, nose and mouth. His screams were joined by the whistling shrieks of the mononoke, the demon howling as it was blasted into pieces, clutching spasmodically at a white light between its claws. There was an explosion of white light throughout the temple, blinding everyone within, their screams torn from their throats. Shouryuu felt the intense heat of the explosion, heard his own scream echo in his head--and all was darkness.

****

He woke slowly to the concerned murmurs of unfamiliar voices. He opened his eye, the mystical eyes of his mask opening in response to his returning consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that he was now in the outer sanctuary, someone having pulled him from the scene of the…accident. He turned and focused blearily on the face of one of the miko's serving girls, noting that her features drawn and white. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he looked down at his garments, and saw that they were spattered with blood.

Shouryuu trembled, not wanting to see what had happened, but knowing that he couldn't run away. A voice cried out in relief, "She's alive! She's going to be all right!"

He pushed himself to his feet, weaving unsteadily, watching as one of the village guards pulled Midori-sama up into a seated position. The miko was very white, but she was breathing, thank Suzaku. A form pushed past him and knelt beside her; he was relieved to see that it was Oshou-sama, the tiny monk thankfully surviving the killing blast.

The killing blast… Shouryuu turned towards the inner shrine. One of the doors hung off the hinges, creaking eerily as it swung gently back and forth on one hinge. He gathered his courage and walked stiffly towards the inner shrine, moving past the broken door. The entire chamber was in darkness, the glass of the oil lamps shattered on the tiled floor. He could barely make out the front of the shrine, but he moved forward anyway, determined to see--what he had to see.

There seemed to be darkness all around him, but he could make out a yet darker shape huddled on the floor. As he stepped forward, he felt his sandals slip in running liquid--the oil from the lamps? he wondered dimly. But the lamps were behind him, and they were small, not holding much oil, and this was a huge pool of liquid, huge and spreading and viscous, and… He suddenly forced down his gorge. It was _blood_--the shrine was swimming in _ blood._

"Toumo?" he croaked out, unable to help himself, all the while knowing that there would be no answer. In the whispered hush of the temple, in the eerie creak of the door, he thought he could hear a distant voice. _'I love my kitty,'_ it whispered. _'I love Midori-sama…and maybe I could love you, too.' _

He answered the phantom voice. "Maybe we could be friends," he choked, then sobbed. Lamplight suddenly flared behind him, illuminating the dark shape before him--and then he saw…what he had to see.

Toumo's body lay twisted on the ground, its limbs arranged in unnatural contortions he could never have achieved in life. His face was set in a grimace of agony and horror, the mouth gaping open, blood running everywhere, but he had no eyes, he had no _eyes!_

Shouryuu choked back a scream, backing away frantically, slipping in the blood and crashing into the person behind him. He was seized in a surprisingly strong grip and shaken. "Get control of yourself, Shouryuu!" hissed a raspy, androgynous voice. "The exorcism was successful, the demon destroyed--so get control of yourself!"

He stared back into the mask of Kurayami. Her clothes were blood-spattered like his, and her hair was mussed, but other than that, she seemed normal. "Successful?" he choked in horror. "You call this _successful?"_

"Shut up!" she snarled at him. "You should be congratulating yourself instead of mewling like an infant!"

"Congratulating himself," repeated a dull and weary voice. Midori-sama moved towards them, her steps slow and stiff. "For what? The destruction of an innocent life?"

"He only did what you insisted he do for you!" snapped Kurayami, coming to the defense of her colleague. "So there was a mistake--a miscalculation."

"Miscalculation," repeated the miko, kneeling before the body of her friend, her hakama soaking in his blood. She turned from them to breathe a prayer for the dead. Out of nowhere, she choked. "Gods!" she cried out. "I can't find his soul; where is his _soul?"_ She turned raging, grieving eyes upon the frozen form of Shouryuu, still held fast in Kurayami's grip. "You destroyed it!" she howled at him. "You destroyed his innocent _soul!"_

Shouryuu felt the shock hit him, taking his breath away--and suddenly he knew he was going to be sick. He wrenched out of Kurayami's grasp, running desperately for the side door of the shrine. He ran out into the side gardens, the grass and flowers wilting under the driving rain, and fell to his knees, becoming violently ill. He retched and heaved, all the while hearing the voices in his head rising in mocking derision. _Poor little sick boy, _they mocked. _No stomach for murder. No stomach for killing innocents. Nothing for him to do but go on destroying souls!_

He raised his face to the driving rain, weeping and wishing that it would cleanse him, knowing all the while that he would never be able to remove the blood from his hands. He couldn't stand this anymore, couldn't _stand_ it! He had to get away, to find the one who loved him. Shouryuu rose shakily to his feet, then turned and ran to the side gate. He burst into the street, running, running in the gloom of nightfall. He thought he heard a voice calling his name; it sounded like the voice of Oshou-sama, but he didn't care. He had to get away and find him!

_Find who? Who could possibly love you now?_ mocked the voice in his head.

"Shut up!" he snarled, looking around for a horse. He saw one standing unattended outside an inn, and grabbed its reins. _Thief now, too, are we?_ mocked the voice. He paid it no heed, turning the horse and spurring it towards the river to the southeast.

He had no idea of how long he rode in the darkness and the storm, the rain lashing him and the wind howling in his face. The landscape began to show familiar features, so he rode onward until he reached the raging waters of the once peaceful river where he had spent so many happy hours in quiet contemplation. He released the horse and ran up and down the riverbank.

"Doctor!" he screamed into the storm, his grief and guilt and anguish overwhelming him until he howled like a lost child. _"Doctor!"_ he shouted until he was hoarse, the whistling wind drowning out his frantic cries. "Doctor, Doctor!" he wept, desolate at his abandonment by his last friend.

The wind whipped the rain into his face like tiny slivered needles, the prickling moisture mixing with the warmer stream of his tears. He no longer knew where or when he was; it seemed that he had been caught in this fierce storm for all of his existence, forever crying out his pain and anguish, lost in this hellish landscape for all eternity. In his mind, he was back once again at the outskirts of his flooding village, as death rolled in with the cresting surge.

Suddenly, he heard a voice calling him. "Houjun... Houjun..." The voice was distant, deep, seeming to emanate from beneath the turbulent waves of the once peaceful river. _"Houjun!"_ The cry reverberated in his mind, its deep tones suddenly achingly familiar.

"Hikou?" He leaned over the riverbank to stare into the churning water. "Hikou! Are you _here?"_ he cried in desperation. He didn't know how or why Hikou should be in this river, nor did he care. He only knew his frantic need to see his best friend once again.

"Houjun, come to me..." The thrashing waters seemed to calm near the center of the river. Houjun thought he saw a pale face take shape beneath the rippling surface.

"Hikou!" he cried again, then waded into the shallows near the riverbank. Even here, the water rose above his thighs and swirled so viciously that he fell to his knees. The jolt of the cold water pulling at him and splashing in his face nearly brought him out of his trancelike state of shock, but then he heard the voice resound nearer. _"Houjun..."_ The waters suddenly seemed to part, allowing him a tantalizing glimpse of Hikou's face, the copper ring of his circlet reflecting the flashes of lightning in the darkened sky as he stretched his hand towards the surface in appeal.

That was all Houjun needed to see. He plunged into the turbulent waters, reaching for his friend's hand, determined that this time, _this_ time he would catch Hikou by the hand and never let go! He fought the raging current that swirled around him, reaching desperately for the phantom hand - but no matter where he grabbed, he felt nothing but water slip from his grasp. He screamed out his rage and frustration, "Hikou! Come _back!_" as the waters tossed him about. Time and again, he plunged beneath the surface, grasping blindly, then breaking into the open air to take a breath and scream Hikou's name.

Finally, he realized that he was not going to be able to reach Hikou--not now...not ever again. All he had seen and heard had been just a vision invoked by his distraught mind, no more than a mocking memory, a hopeless dream. With that thought, Houjun stopped fighting the river, letting the current drag him under, the water flowing into his nose and mouth and lungs. He felt a strange peace enter his soul. So this is what it was like, drowning. '_How fitting,'_ was his last thought. _'How fitting that I should die in this way...'_ and he opened his mind one last time, embracing the darkness and the peace.

****

"_Noooo!"_ A scream of anguish echoed through the Reference Room of the National Library in Tokyo, but being that it was the middle of the night, no one heard the frantic cries of the young woman locked within. She dropped the book and threw herself uselessly at the locked door.

"No! He _can't_ die! I won't LET HIM!" she howled, pounding on the solid unyielding surface of the door. Glimmers of reason began to infiltrate her panicked mind, and she turned back to the book where it lay on the floor, kneeling beside it.

"There's no use in running for help out there," she panted. "No one will ever believe me, anyway. I have to save him _myself_. And there's only one way I can do that!"

Some strange force seemed to take hold of her, pulling her to her feet. She raised both hands to the ceiling, her head falling back as if she were in a trance. "The Four Palaces of the Heavens... The Four Corners of the Earth..." she intoned. "In the name of Sacred Law, Faith and Virtue, I summon thee, Suzaku!" Her voice caught and she sobbed, not understanding her own words nor where they came from but infusing them with desperate entreaty nonetheless. "I _beseech_ you to appear! "

She faltered again, something inside her head telling her that it was not her place to use this prayer. "But who else is there?" she demanded tearfully of the ether. "If not me, then _who?" _The silent voice inside her head paused in its rebuke...then relented, allowing the words to flow through her mind once again. "Come to us!" she sobbed in relief. "With your mighty power, _save_ us... and grant me my wish!"

Far off in the distance, she thought she heard the piercing cry of a mythical bird. A loud clattering of wings caused her to twist around, startled. She saw nothing, but the mystical wind of its passage blew around her, ruffling her short wavy hair as a crimson glow emanated from the fallen book. Suddenly, she found herself falling through a fantastical scarlet landscape, brilliant stars sparkling in a deep magenta sky. "Thank you!" she wept as she fell. "Thank you, Suzaku, thank you!" she sobbed, unable to stop her tears. "Hold on, Shouryuu," she begged, her words a prayer to him and to Suzaku. "Oh, please, hold on...just a little while longer... _please!"_

_****_

_****_

**Glossary of Japanese terms**

Oshou-sama - respectful term of address for a Buddhist monk

onegai - please

mononoke - demon or ghost

anou - uhhh

jaki - evil aura

"Shi ne!" - "Die!"

****

**Author's Note: (10-15-02) **So, see what I mean? New R-rating - much violence, much horror, much angst. And another 11,000 word chapter!! You "Bridge" fans have been spared my lengthy chapters up until now, but unfortunately… (smirks evilly)

Betcha some of you wondered if I was ever coming back to this fic. Geez, has it really been more than seven weeks since I last updated this story? Yikes! Sorry, but a lot has happened - lots of "Casting Stones", time spent traveling for business, getting myself embroiled in controversy and thrown into electronic prison - blah-de-blah. But now I'm back, and as you see, I haven't forgotten about Bridge at all!

As I've said before, the plotline of this fic is _crucial_ to the sequel of "White Stones in the Moonlight" - new sequel name "Hidden Paths on a Cloud-Cast Night." No, it's not up yet; I have to get a bit more done on_ this_ story before I'm ready to start that horse running. But the bits and pieces are falling into place, trust me.

So, lotsa cliffhangers here, right? Stayed tuned - I'll get back here in about another month.

Gahhhhh, just kidding! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, and yes, it will be the very next thing I post. I promised you a one-two punch on this story, and I always keep my promises.

Ja ne!

Roku


	6. Waves of forgiveness, waves of regret

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical selection: "Greenwaves" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon, " copyright 2002, Universal Music AS, Norway; Composed by Rolf Lovland, Lyrics by Anne Hampton Callaway

****

**Chapter 6. Waves of forgiveness and waves of regret**

He felt himself drifting, falling weightlessly through the darkness and the cold, spinning as effortlessly through the currents of water as a bird spins on currents of air. The chill seeped into every part of his body, but he didn't care, because with it came a blanket of peace, wrapping him in a cocoon of silence. There were no tears here, no pain; only silence and darkness and peace...

Suddenly, his body was wrenched violently upward, as something caught his arm and pulled at him. He pulled back weakly, not opening his eye, wishing only to be left alone. But the iron grip refused to release him, dragging him inexorably against the current. The waters grew more violent as they approached the surface, tossing him around. He tried to pull back once again, but the arm just moved to grip him more firmly around the chest--and they burst out into the open air.

Gods, it was so cold and _loud_, the rushing waters roaring in his ears! And now the pain started, a searing, _burning_ pain in his chest. He would have cried out, but for some reason he couldn't find his voice, so he just moaned in misery. Why couldn't he just be left alone; he was happy in the darkness! He struck out in anger at the person who was dragging him through this hell of pain and cold, but the person was incredibly strong and just gripped him more firmly, dragging him out into the icy, gusting wind. His body was scraped painfully over the sharp-edged rocks on the riverbank, then he was pushed onto his back, a hand pulling off his mask.

Hands pressed on his chest, pushing down hard, and suddenly water was flowing over his lips, an agonizing vacuum crushing his lungs, and he couldn't _breathe!_ He opened his mouth, helplessly seeking air, water, _something--_and soft, cool lips pressed against his, gentle fingers holding his nose shut as warm, sweet air was blown into his lungs. His lungs expanded, then contracted, and he was once again choking in pain. Hands pressed on his chest again, and the cycle was repeated: the water forced out of him, the gentle kiss bringing air back to him. Over and over again, until finally his weakened, battered lungs responded, and he drew in a trembling, sobbing breath of his own. Sensation returned to his body, and suddenly he was so _cold_, shuddering uncontrollably in the icy air. He felt himself scooped up into the same strong arms that had dragged him out, and he felt a moment's pity for this person who had worked so hard to save him, because it was all for nothing. He simply couldn't take the pain of this existence any longer, and he was tired of fighting. Letting his head fall back, he allowed the darkness to carry him away once again...

Brief flashes of consciousness intruded into the darkness, then quickly disappeared, leaving odd visions and sensations in their wake.

Looking up at a dome of strange material, lit by a golden glow, as his skin was rubbed briskly with some soft, thick cloth; still cold, he was still so _cold_...

Feeling himself forced into a soft cocoon of padded silken material, strange metal lamp-like objects brought close to him. He could feel heat radiating off the objects, but it couldn't penetrate the coating of ice that seemed to hold him in his grip. He was frozen in place, unable to even shiver...

A hand reaching in to touch his icy skin. A muttered oath in some language he didn't recognize...

Being pushed to one side in his cocoon as a body slid in behind him. The scent of ozone and sandalwood. Smooth skin, cool at first but soon radiating more and more heat. The warmth penetrating his icy prison. The sudden pain of sensation flowing back into his frozen limbs. The shivering starting up, growing in intensity until he was shuddering violently. Arms wrapping around him from behind, soothing him, warming him...

The need for yet more warmth. Turning around in his cocoon to face the warmth at his back, burrowing deeper into its soothing embrace. Feeling the body before him tense briefly, then relax, letting out a long, silent breath. Sandalwood and ozone... Leaning his cheek against smooth warm skin, hearing a strange rhythmic beat, a pattern of four beats together: thump-_thump_, thump-_thump_... thump-_thump_, thump-_thump_...

The soothing rhythm lulling him into peaceful darkness, stirring up memories of the last time he had rested on someone's heart; softer, rounder arms surrounding him back then, a gentle hand caressing his hair. "'Kaa-san," he murmured, a tear trickling from his eye... and then all was darkness once again.

****

Light, golden and gentle. Warmth, surrounding him, caressing him. Softness, beneath his cheek, in the silken covers in which he rested. Music, warm, mellow, crooning in the distance... Music?

He opened his eye slowly, focusing gradually on his surroundings. The curved dome of a tent arched above him, golden light filtering through mesh window-like panels. He lay in a cocoon of padded silk, the smooth, soft material caressing his bare skin. Bare skin--he touched his fingers to his face, realizing that his mask was gone. Sitting up, he looked around for his clothes before realizing that they probably lay wet and muddy somewhere. Before him lay a silk robe folded neatly in a bundle. All the while, the music flowed around him, the voice of an instrument he had never heard before. It was warm and mellow, its deep tones approximating the human voice in range and timbre, but richer, swelling with vibrant emotion. The notes it played were also unfamiliar in their chord structure; not atonal like the stringed instruments of his home village, but flowing, blending smoothly together.

His ever-present curiosity piqued, he pulled on the robe and stepped over to the tent flap, pulling it open.

Sunlight streamed into his eye, blinding him for a moment. All around him, the air practically vibrated with freshness and the fragrance of green, growing things. The monsoon had passed, leaving all of nature bursting with life, thrusting up new green shoots nourished by the rain. He inhaled deeply, remembering that this was his favorite month of the year, the month of his birth: the month in which the last remnants of winter were shaken from the landscape, falling before blankets of wildflowers and the happy gamboling of newborn creatures.

The music changed, remaining sweet but adding notes of gentle longing and wistfulness. Suddenly, a lilting tenor voice joined in, the accent strange but musical, drawing out the words so that they sang out as vibrantly as the notes of the instrument.

I remember a meadow one morning in May,

With a sky full of dreams that sailed in that day.

I was dancing through green waves of grass like the sea

For a moment in time I could feel

I was free...

He looked out into the distance--and there he was, the singer/musician, seated on a stool near the woods, cradling a strange wooden instrument next to his body. The instrument was large, the bottom edge of its curved body sitting on the ground while its slender neck extended past the musician's shoulder. The man bent his head towards the neck, his golden-brown locks veiling his face as the fingers of his left hand pressed and vibrated on the strings that ran along the neck. He held a long stick in his right hand, drawing it across the strings that extended down the curved wooden body, pulling the mellow notes from the instrument. His voice rose in perfect accompaniment to the dreamy wistfulness of the melody.

There are waves of forgiveness and waves of regret,

And the first waves of true love I'll never forget

In the meadow that morning as I wandered alone

There were green waves of yearning for life

still unknown

Ri Houjun suddenly choked on his grief. The words; had they been written for him? His life full of tragic mistakes, his eternal longing for forgiveness--and love? The man who sang to him so serenely, did he hold the answers to all of his tormented questions? Did he offer the forgiveness that Houjun so desperately needed? He stared at the figure of the musician through an eye blurred with tears. What had he ever done to deserve this person in his life? His memories of the previous night returned: the cold waters of the river, his ardent wish for eternal darkness; the hand that pulled him from the river, the body that held him and warmed him. Once again, he felt the love of a parent in his life--and that feeling brought back the loss of the one who had loved him before, the one who had loved him without question and without fail, the one he had not permitted himself to mourn or even think about, for fear that he would not be able to bear life without her. Grief suddenly overcame him, turning him away to stumble back into the tent, the haunting words and melody following him.

Take me home to the meadow that cradles my heart

Where the waves reach as far as you can see

Take me home to the meadow - we've been too long apart,

I can still hear you calling for me.

For the first time in eighteen months, he allowed himself to remember her warm mahogany eyes so like his own, her gentle smile and easy laugh that masked an indomitable will. She was soft-spoken and delicate in appearance but as tenacious and unyielding as a stone wall when it came to his welfare. How else had she negotiated the terms of marriage for him, a poor fatherless boy, to the girl of his heart?

Fatherless boy... When he was very young, she'd held him against her heart, wiping away his tears and whispering to him of his marvelous destiny, soothing him for the mockery he suffered at the hands of the village lads. Later, as he grew, he learned to hold his head high before that taunt. She taught him how to stand up to those who would bully him, how to act like a man: avoiding conflict if possible but fighting to the finish if necessary. She encouraged his friendship with Hikou and Kouran, knowing that each would contribute in their own way towards making him a man.

The music continued to play outside, although the singer had paused. Houjun still knelt at his bedroll, overcome by long-suppressed memories.

She'd also been the one who encouraged his love of nature, teaching him about plants and animals and medicinal herbs. Not only practical knowledge, but the deeper love of the earth for its own sake. She opened his heart to the beauty of the world around him: the wonder of a sunrise, the music of the rain...

In the end, it was the rain that took her from him, took her and everyone else he loved, in one violent, raging swell. Had he run to her in his raging grief instead of seeking vengeance against his best friend, she might still be alive; he might have saved her, and... they might all still be alive.

The pain flooded through him, the sorrow and grief pulling him back into the past, so that he sobbed uncontrollably like a bereft child, like an orphan in the storm.

"Okaa-san!" he wept, mourning her at last. "'Kaa-san, 'Kaa-san!" grasping at the silk coverlet, weeping into its soft folds as he had once wept into her silk robes. He was racked with grief, missing her so badly, missing her so _much! _He was caught once again in his world of guilt and regret, not noticing that the music had stopped. Lost and alone without her, his life spiraled downward into ever more disastrous mistakes. When would this pain ever end? When would he ever feel her gentle touch again?

He could almost feel that touch now, smoothing his hair as it had long ago. He wept into the lap that now held him, leaning into the gentle hand on his hair as it stroked him, soothing him. The aura of compassion that surrounded him allowed him to let go of the last barriers between himself and his past, allowing him to mourn her fully at last, as she deserved to be mourned. "Kaa-san," he sobbed one last time... and the music started up again; not the instrument, but the lilting voice, singing with vibrant longing of love lost, of love remembered.

Take me home to the meadow that cradles my heart

Where the waves reach as far as you can see

Take me home to the meadow - we've been too long apart,

I can still hear you calling for me.

-

The voice softened, singing wistfully yet hopefully, promising happiness in the end.

-

What I'd give to remember that heavenly state

Just a moment in time - all mine to create.

As I'm taking my last breath I know what I will see

There'll be green waves forever out there

waiting for me.

The singer trailed off, humming the chorus softly, still stroking the loose silvery-blue strands in time with the melody. Houjun felt himself calming under the gentle touch, his fierce pain abating, fading slowly away. His heart still ached, but it was a bearable ache, because he was no longer alone in his grief. There was someone to hold him at last, someone to give him the comfort and understanding he had needed for so long.

He lay very quietly, resting his head in his savior's lap, savoring the feeling of peace that cradled him as gently as his friend. He let himself drift in a state of semi-consciousness. Peace...he'd forgotten how it felt to truly be at peace.

The gentle voice spoke at last. "It's time; time to tell your story."

Houjun grew very still. "I'm afraid," he admitted, surprised at the raspiness of his voice, his throat still raw from the river water and tears.

The hand stroked his hair again. "If you cannot bring yourself to say the words, then the words will always hold power over you. The story will control you and hold you in the past, instead of you controlling it. You must learn to live for the future, Ri Houjun; that is your destined path."

Houjun was not surprised that the Doctor knew his true name; after last night, he'd come to believe that the Doctor knew everything. Was he a guardian spirit sent by the gods to watch over him--or just a mysterious and powerful foreigner with the ability to see into men's hearts? It didn't matter; he was the answer to the unspoken prayer of his heart, to the inarticulate plea that he'd presented to his god. The Doctor was right. If Houjun could not face his past in the compassionate embrace of his friend, then he was doomed to forever flee himself, never learning from his mistakes, thus being condemned to tragically repeat them.

Drawing a deep breath, he took his courage firmly in hand and rose up into a seated position, facing his friend. He knew that his scarred and deformed features were now fully exposed to the Doctor's view in the bright light of day. He lifted his gaze hesitantly, only to meet a warm and approving smile. Supported once again by his friend's compassion, he began to speak, in a halting, raspy voice, of the events of the previous day--and of a stormy day over eighteen months before.

****

"So you say that you felt another power joining with yours."

"Yes, but I allowed myself to become distracted. I was the one who lost control--and so I…I destroyed him, body and soul! He trusted me." A ragged breath. "He trusted me--and I killed him!"" Lips clamped shut, he tried to suppress a moan of despair.

A reflective voice. "I wouldn't be so certain of the destruction of his soul. It's no easy task to destroy a soul across planes of existence, especially when the spellcaster is distracted." The voice darkened. "And psychic rape is a highly effective means of distraction."

"Psychic rape?"

"That's what I would call it from your description. The violation of the very center of your being, breaking your concentration and control at a critical point in the exorcism."

"But who_--why?"_

"I will explain all that I know to you later. But for now, my young friend, we must continue with your story."

More words, more painful images--a day full of rage and pain and loss.

"You see, Doctor, I tried to kill him, so it was by my hand that he died."

"Not exactly by your hand; you tried to save him, didn't you?"

"Tried and failed. I had him by the hand--but let go." A sob escaped him. "I let him go!"

"You couldn't help it! You were struck in the eye, blinded and in agony."

"What difference does that make? He still died because of me; he never would have fallen in the first place if it hadn't been for me! If I regretted what I had done, if I did my best to save him--he still ended up dying, so it makes no difference what I felt!"

A gentle voice, soft with compassion. "It makes all the difference, Houjun. The fact that you tried to save him, that you didn't want him to die; that makes all the difference, in your heart and in who you are as a person."

Houjun's voice was choked with grief. "You don't understand, Doctor; Hikou wasn't the only one who died because of my rashness. There were others."

The story continued, dredging up the truth from the murky waters of the past.

"I didn't know how long I'd been unconscious, or how I found my way to the highest ground, one of the only places that rose above the river's final surge. All I knew was when I stumbled back into the village, the floodwaters were already receding but still waist-high. I was mostly blind, but I fought my way to my home by instinct. I pulled open the door--and all this water rushed out, knocking me down. I finally forced my way back into my home, and then I saw..." His voice broke off as he gasped and sobbed. He could feel it building in his chest again: the keening wail that had escaped him on that long-ago day. Two hands gripped his, strong and warm, lending him their strength. He fought down the agonized cry, wanting to finish this story, needing to put this image to rest once and for all.

"I saw them--together." His voice was a desolate whisper, trembling but controlled. "Okaa-san and Kouran." He gave a strangled choke that was almost a bitter laugh. "Okaa-san held Kouran in her arms. Their hair had fallen loose, tangling with one another's. They looked so...peaceful, almost like they were asleep, as if they were two sisters who had drifted off while confiding secrets." His voice darkened. "But I had the ability to detect the weakest or faintest life force--and there was nothing there. Nothing."

The tears streamed from his eye as he clutched at his friend's hands. His words tumbled out in a rush, as confused and jumbled as his thoughts that day. "I didn't know what Kouran was doing there! Her father had money, he had boats and land and holdings away from the river; she was supposed to be with him, not with my mother! Anyway, she had just broken off our betrothal the day before, so I don't know what she had to say to Okaa-san." His voice softened. "Of course, Okaa-san had always loved her like a daughter, and Kouran loved her just as much; more than she loved me, as it turned out."

The words slowed, cold with desolation. "It didn't matter in the end. I loved them both--and I wasn't there for either of them. When the floodwaters crested, I wasn't there to save them, and so they died." His voice hardened. "There was nothing special about their deaths; no one to pay them the proper respect except for me. There were too many dead in the village, so the dead just became a problem to be dealt with. The survivors were piling up the bodies in one area, mixing everyone together without noting their names, getting ready to burn them in one huge funeral pyre. I didn't want that for Okaa-san and Kouran; they were special, they deserved more than to become a nameless pile of ashes mixed in with everyone else. The survivors tried to get me to give up their bodies, but I stood guard outside my home, threatening anyone who approached with my spells." He gave another bitter laugh. "There I was, half-blind and raving, barely able to stand--yet they believed that I could still work spells! Or maybe they just didn't care...in any case, they finally left me alone. I waited there for the next two days, waiting for the rain to let up enough for me to do what I had to do. And all the while, I knew that they lay in the house, but I didn't dare look inside again. I didn't want to see what my other senses were telling me..." His voice trailed off, then started up again. He was determined to finish this story.

"The rain finally slowed, so I went to the shrine of Suzaku at the edge of the village--and I stole all the oil from the lamps." Yet another half-laugh, half-sob. "There's a bitter irony in me stealing from Suzaku, which someday I'll tell you, if you don't already know." His eye remained downcast, so he didn't see the brief flash in the Doctor's eyes. "I took the oil and spread it all around the outside of my home, praying to Suzaku to help me." Another bitter laugh. "And then I used the last of my strength and all of my magic to cast one last spell. The spell worked, or Suzaku answered the thief's prayers, or both: the house went up in flames and burned throughout the entire night. The survivors drew close, just for the warmth, and I thought, 'Thank you, Okaa-san, for giving us your warmth one last time.'" He sobbed once again. "And when it was finished, I sat down in the ashes of everything and everyone I loved--and I waited to die."

His control finally broke and he began to weep bitterly. "I still wonder why Suzaku didn't take me then! I wondered why he allowed me to survive, so that I could go on and make yet _more_ mistakes and destroy yet _more_ lives!"

Strong arms pulled him into a tight embrace, and he felt his cheek once more pressed against the Doctor's chest. Through his pain, he dimly noted the strange four-part heartbeat of last night.

"Shhh," the gentle voice crooned. "It's over now, it's all over; you mustn't hate yourself any longer." Houjun wept harder at the compassion given to him.

The compassionate voice darkened. "Any one of us can make a mistake, mistakes fatal to others. It needn't even be in the heat of passion. All you need is a slip of judgment, a momentary blindness if you will, in which you see only one side of a situation without considering all outcomes." A deep sigh. "You must learn to forgive yourself, so that you can move forward and do some good in this universe. Otherwise, the final victims of your terrible mistake will be the people you _could_ have helped but didn't, because you were too busy wallowing in self-hatred." Another sigh, softer this time. "We cannot bring back the dead; we can only honor them by giving their deaths meaning, in the way we live our lives."

Houjun finally understood. The peace that the Doctor offered: it was not the nothingness that he had sought in place of his pain nor the suppression of his past that Magus had encouraged. No, this genuine peace required acceptance of reality, of all of his mistakes and sins, of his youthful rage that never meant to kill. It required him to acknowledge and remember those who had died and to make his life a living memorial to them, to honor them. He felt his heart clench in pain again. He wasn't there yet--it would take him a long time before he could think of them without grief and pain--but at least he now knew the path he must walk.

He felt the Doctor lift him away from his chest, giving his shoulders one last squeeze. "We must get ready to leave, Houjun. We're on the other side of the river, which continues to rage, and I have a shield up, blocking our ki, but we mustn't linger any longer than necessary." He lifted a small silver wand and pressed a button on the side, nodding in satisfaction at whatever he detected with the strange instrument. Moving around the tent, he opened a satchel and pulled out some clothes. "As far as they know, Shouryuu died in the river last night, and his traveling friend, the night before, in the woods. We mustn't let them know any differently; at least, not for the time being."

Houjun stared in shock, the Doctor's sudden energetic reversal and cryptic statements throwing him completely off balance. "_They?_"

"No time to natter on now; I'll explain it all to you on the way to, er, where we're going. You have just enough time for a quick dip in a hot spring I found near here." He pushed the garments and a towel into Houjun's arms and steered him towards the tent flap. "Come now!" he ordered cheerfully. "Time to wash that river water out of your hair!"

****

She woke slowly, annoyed by the bright light pulsing behind her closed eyelids. "Forgot to pull the shades down again," she muttered to herself, but that didn't explain why she felt so cold and stiff and... damp. Damp? "Gah!" she cried out, sitting up in panic--and stared in shock at the green, verdant landscape spread out before her eyes.

She seemed to be in a small open area in a forest, the early sunbeams breaking through the canopy of green leaves to illuminate her in a natural spotlight. Her jeans and knit shirt were damp with dew or rainwater. She stared off into space for a moment, trying to get her brain to click in and tell her where she was. It seemed that she was lost on a camping trip--but she _loathed_ camping, thinking of it as an activity for those demented people who wanted to spend their leisure time working harder than they did in their actual jobs. Her idea of a good time usually involved curling up somewhere with a good book, exploring new libraries...

"Gaaaaaahhh!" she screamed again, her memory flooding back. It was morning: far too late for her to do anything to save the young magician! She leaped to her feet and dashed around in aimless circles, not knowing what to do. "Damn you, Suzaku!" she cursed. "What the hell are you trying to pull? What's the point of bringing me into the book if you were just going to let him die, anyway?" She sobbed in grief as she pulled at her short wavy hair.

Eventually, she calmed, catching her breath. "Maybe he's not dead. Maybe he washed up on shore somewhere. I have to get to the river!" She ran in one direction, then reversed and ran in the other. All she could see in any direction were trees rising up before her, blocking her view. "Damn it!" she cursed again. "I have no idea where the river is, or where _I_ am, for that matter." She raised her voice, addressing the ether sarcastically. "Would it be too much trouble to provide me with a map of this area, preferably one with a 'You Are Here' arrow?" Her only answer was the trembling warble of a finch and the sigh of the branches in the breeze.

Wait! Was that running water that she heard in the distance? She moved towards the sound, adjusting her path so that the burbling of the water grew louder with each step. Mist began to drift over her feet; she must be approaching the river! Something made her move quietly, holding her breath. She crept around a thick stand of lilac bushes, stopping and staring at the sight that met her eyes.

Her initial feeling was one of disappointment: this was no river. Instead, it was an isolated pool in the woods, a large outcropping of rocks standing in the center. The mist rolling off the surface of the water told her that it was a natural hot spring; she'd visited one just recently on her trip to Japan. She nearly turned away in disappointment, but then a figure moved in the mist, appearing from behind the rocky island in the spring.

At first, she thought it was a woman, the long hair trailing halfway down the figure's back. But as the figure moved closer, parting the mists, she realized that the shoulders were not those of a woman. She shrank back behind the lilacs, not wishing to disturb him at his bath--but why then did she part the branches, keeping her line of vision clear?

He bent and tossed his hair over his right shoulder, gently squeezing the water from the long strands, brushing his trailing, dripping bangs from his face. He gripped a cloth in his hand, squeezing water from it, then passing it over his face. She could see only his right profile, but that was enough: his features were fine and handsome, with high sculpted cheekbones and a straight, delicate nose. His mouth, however... perhaps that was his best feature. The lips just hinted at fullness, softness, but more than that, they trembled with life and feeling. She touched a finger to her own lips, wondering briefly what it would be like...

He continued to clean himself, running the cloth across his shoulders and down his chest...then down further, under the waterline. His silent witness felt her face flush. _Pervert! s_he scolded herself silently. _Voyeur!_ However, no amount of mental scolding could make her turn away. Finished with his bath, he moved up out of the spring. She gaped at the strongly defined muscles in his shoulders and chest, tapering into a slender waist, narrow hips and... God, she'd never seen such a beautiful man in all her life! He was only of medium height, maybe five-foot-eight, or five-foot-nine, but he was perfectly, exquisitely proportioned.

He suddenly turned in the direction of the lilacs, reaching for a bundle that rested perhaps twenty feet away from her hiding place, and his full face was exposed to her view for the first time. Her mouth dropped open in shock at the scar that slashed across his closed left eye, extending to the bridge of his nose--and she finally realized who she'd been spying upon.

Her heart leaped up in joy; he was alive, thank Suzaku, he was still alive! But her mind still vibrated in shock. He wasn't what she'd expected! She had pictured him as a frail, scrawny boy-man, still straddling the line between adolescence and manhood. She hadn't expected this fully-grown, heart-stoppingly beautiful man, now toweling himself off. _Every inch a man, _she thought to herself, then stopped and blushed again.

He was still unaware of her presence, lost in his own thoughts as he pulled on his trousers and tightened the drawstring. For some reason, her heart pounded harder at the sight of him half-dressed; it was somehow erotic, the gradual covering of his beauty with the plain, simple clothes. _Get control of yourself, wench! _she scolded herself. She felt shy and hesitant in the face of his unexpected masculinity. She couldn't step out into the open and reveal herself to him…not until she managed to rid herself of the flush that heated her face.

"Houjun!" a musical voice called in the distance. The young magician's face broke into a smile. He finished dressing, pulling on his slippers hurriedly. Snatching up his hair ties and towel, he walked swiftly in the direction of the voice. The girl felt her heart lift at the familiar lilting British tones. So the Doctor had survived as well! Thank Suzaku for that! She made a silent, abashed apology to the phoenix-god for her earlier curses against him.

She saw the velvet-clad figure of the Doctor step out of the woods on the other side of the hot spring. "We must be leaving now," he informed his young companion, their figures obscured by the mist. The girl's eyes widened as she realized that she was about to be left behind. She surged forward, intending to break free of the shelter of the lilacs. Suddenly she felt herself dragged back, a hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled and fought, but there were too many arms restraining her, grasping at her body and limbs. The hand over her mouth slipped, now covering her nose as well. She pulled at the hand, hearing the blood pound in her ears, but her captors paid no attention, merely dragging her deeper into the woods. The edges of her vision grew dark, and she felt herself falling...

Back at the hot spring, the Doctor looked up, his gaze troubled. Houjun, too, looked around, detecting the disturbance in the ki in the area. The Doctor touched his companion's arm. "We'd best hurry," he murmured. "Things seem to be moving quicker than I anticipated." They turned and headed swiftly back towards their small encampment, unaware of the girl they had left behind.

****

The Doctor ducked into the tent, Houjun following closely behind him. "Let's see now; the first thing we need to do is to alter our appearances. It won't do to travel in our usual guise. We're sufficiently out of the ordinary, shall we say, that it won't take them long to pick up our trail if we don't assume different outward appearances." The Doctor paused for breath, pulling long swathes of material from yet another satchel.

Houjun took advantage of the brief pause to leap in with the questions he had been pondering in the hot spring. "Doctor, I realize that you're in a hurry--and I can see that you intend for me to accompany you--but you haven't yet explained who 'they' are, and why we are in danger from them, especially if they believe we're dead, as you mentioned before."

The Doctor removed the diamond stickpin from his cravat, then pulled the cravat from his neck, folding it and tucking it into his coat pocket. "You know," he mused, removing his velvet frock coat and placing it in the satchel, "over the years, I've enjoyed explaining everything to my companions. Only recently have I come to realize that I may have been doing them a disservice by doing all the thinking for them. So I'm turning over a new leaf and restraining my overbearing tendency to be the only one with the answers. In other words, Houjun, I am challenging you to use that rather fine brain you were gifted with, and tell me what you've deduced about the events of the past three days."

Houjun frowned as he tried to focus on the events of the recent past without becoming lost in the pain and trauma. He firmly pushed away the feeling of jealousy that had surfaced when the Doctor referred to his other "companions." _'So you're nothing special to him,'_ whispered the evil little voice inside his head. '_He's had companions on his journeys before; you're just filling in a temporary opening in his life.' _'Shut up!' he mentally instructed the voice, disgusted with the childish pettiness of the thought. He brought his mind back to the problem at hand, forcing himself to think logically.

Three days…three days ago, Maboroshi had discovered his secret friendship with the Doctor. Later that same day, he'd met Kurayami for the first time, and disliked her on sight. Not the friendliest of responses, but perhaps he should have faith in his instincts. Two days ago, the Doctor had invited him to travel with him. Later that same evening, Magus-sensei had brought him back to a sense of responsibility--or was it guilt?--regarding the school and his path in life. Also on that same day, he'd noticed the absence of Maboroshi tagging along at his heels.

And yesterday--yesterday presented the unusual circumstances of the exorcism: Magus-sensei sending him off alone with only Kurayami as assistant, the demand for the most dangerous type of exorcism combined with the reduced capacity of the victim. Houjun choked at the memory of Toumo's innocent and trusting gaze, forcing his brain to re-enter its logical path. He hadn't wanted to proceed under those circumstances, but Kurayami had insisted. Both Kurayami and Magus-sensei were aware of the risky nature of this exorcism days in advance, but still sent him out to deal with it essentially alone. Houjun's eye suddenly flashed.

The Doctor looked up from where he had been folding away his waistcoat. He unbuttoned the wing collar of his silk shirt. "Do you sense a set-up?" he inquired pleasantly.

Houjun's eye was suddenly focused keenly on his friend. "I need more information, Doctor. You'd said that 'they' believed that you died in the woods two days ago. What exactly happened after I left you that afternoon?" His gaze sharpened. "You'd seemed on edge that day, as if you sensed something, and you were fairly eager to get me out of there--You knew someone was watching us!"

"Bravo!" applauded the Doctor, pulling off his silk shirt and pulling on a simpler, collarless shirt similar to the one worn by Houjun. "Gathering all the facts: essential to the deduction process! Since you ask so politely, I'll fill you in on the events that I was embroiled in since we last spoke."

Tying his hair back into a ponytail, the Doctor enlightened Houjun as to the attack on his campsite that night and his observation of Kurayami as the perpetrator.

Houjun grew pale with shock. "But how did you escape the demon creatures?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. I had quite an active night, running, hiding, being flushed out, running again... Aerobics are supposed to be good for the heart, but unfortunately, this type of exercise was somewhat detrimental to the nerves. In the end, it was the basic nature of the beasts that finished them. They had a mindless urge to kill; mindless because they were unnatural creatures, not truly alive. All I needed to do was to entrap them in an enclosed area--say, a cesspit at the edge of an abandoned village--" he wrinkled his nose at the memory, "--and then it was just the calico cat and the gingham dog all over again."

"The calico cat and the gingham dog?"

"They ate each other up. The reference is to a lovely little poem that inspired nightmares in children about their stuffed toys getting into bloodthirsty battles to the death when the child's back is turned."

Houjun gave up on trying to follow that particular train of thought, and returned to the Doctor's story. "So how did you know that I--? Did you hear me?" He trailed off.

The Doctor looked up from twisting a long swathe of material in his hands. Blue eyes warm with compassion met Houjun's grief-stricken gaze. "Yes, I heard you," he replied softly. "But I was just making my way back to that area, and I was a little too far away--I was almost too late." Unexpectedly, his voice caught in his throat.

Houjun was startled at the emotion in the Doctor's voice. Did he really mean that much to the man? He looked into the blue eyes that were shading into green and caught his breath at the sheer weight of the sadness and grief held in their depths. Not since their first meeting had he felt the vastness of eternity in the Doctor's gaze--but there it was again, the green-blue eyes holding a millennium's worth of pain and regret, speaking eloquently of people loved and people lost...

Houjun's voice trembled in sympathy for the sheer scale of his friend's pain. "So you've been too late before?" he asked gently.

"Yes." The reply was soft but filled with a universe of grief. Houjun was transfixed by a sudden flash of insight. All those other companions of the Doctor--not all of them survived their adventures with him. He felt the compelling need to offer comfort to the man who had so gently comforted him.

"But you weren't too late this time. I'm standing here now because you saved my life. I owe everything to you, Doctor, and although I may not have seemed grateful earlier, please believe me when I tell you that I can never sufficiently repay you for what you have done for me."

The emerald gaze shifted to his face, the cloudiness of past memories giving way to the sharp focus of the present. The Doctor's eyes softened at his words, shading back to their customary blue. "Just keep breathing," he advised his young friend with a gentle smile. "That's repayment enough for me."

The Doctor suddenly looked away, slightly embarrassed at his own vulnerability. Houjun smiled to himself; the Doctor may have decided to let his companion think for himself, but he still wanted to be the one in emotional control. Yet all the same, Houjun felt closer to him now; almost protective of his older, wiser friend.

Placing the swathe of light cotton material on his head, the Doctor twisted it around into a turban reminiscent of those worn by the mountain bandits. He frowned in concentration. "The one thing that troubles me about your experience last night was the vision of your friend that drew you into the river. I can't find an explanation for that. Neither Kurayami nor Magus were anywhere in the area, so it wasn't a spell-induced illusion."

Houjun sighed. "As I said before, Doctor, it was just my mind playing tricks on me."

"Yet you saw his circlet reflect the lightning; memories from the past are not usually that detailed." The Doctor shrugged, dismissing the question for the time being. "We may never know the answer to that riddle, so there's no point in belaboring it. Here," he approached his young friend with another swathe of sheer cotton material, twisting it into a turban that matched his own. "This will be how we mask our true appearances. We now look like nomadic wanderers, possibly from an offshoot tribe of the Kel Tagelmousse."

"Kel Tagelmousse?"

"The People of the Veil. They are a nomadic people who live primarily in the deserts of Sairo but occasionally enter Konan to trade and do business, particularly in high summer when the desert is dangerously hot."

Houjun smiled at the thought of all the different peoples out in the wide world, just waiting for him to discover them and the mysteries of their cultures. He suddenly realized that the Doctor was skillfully diverting his thoughts from his recent problems--and betrayal by his former mentor. Determined to face all of his fears and grief, he firmly brought up the subject again.

"So Magus, Kurayami and Maboroshi are all in a conspiracy together to do what? Other than destroying you and me, that is. It seems a complicated effort for such an insignificant goal. After all, Magus could have eliminated me at any time over the past eighteen months; why bring in all these others now?"

"First of all, Houjun, you may not be as insignificant as you think. Secondly, I'm not certain that Kurayami is in league with Magus; her agenda may be different than his. For one thing, I believe that Magus is at this moment in a state of extreme distress over losing you; killing you was never his intention. As for Maboroshi…" the Doctor sighed. "I'm not certain that he's part of any of this, except maybe as an unwilling tool to inform against you. The boy seemed confused and unsure of himself when we met, hardly possessing the steely nerve required to play in the same arena as the other two. Yet all the same, we mustn't underestimate him or the motives of the other two; it's always best to assume that your opponents are much smarter than they appear. That's why we must assume they will attempt to confirm our deaths, and when they fail to do so, that they will begin searching for us. So, as of this day, Shouryuu no longer exists--nor his mystical, yet easily recognizable mask."

Houjun raised a finger to his scar. "But Doctor, this scar…is as distinctive as your other clothes. And Magus is well aware of how I look without my mask."

The Doctor moved towards Houjun, lifting the trailing edge of the material from the turban and pulled it across his scarred left eye and nose, fastening it over his right ear. "There!" he said in satisfaction. "Now you look a proper member of the Kel; the men go about veiled at all times. It's quite indecent for them to remove their face veils in public, so we should be fine for awhile. At least until I procure a new mask for you." He frowned into the young man's eye. "Not that there's anything wrong with the way you look; it's just that, as you pointed out, we can't afford to be recognized as yet."

Houjun sighed. "I understand, Doctor. In truth, I'm much more comfortable being masked or veiled in public. But what is our overall goal? Do we just keep running and hiding until they lose interest in us?" His eye darkened. "I can't feel there's any justice in letting them get away with murder, for the death of poor Toumo or anyone else."

The Doctor placed a hand on his shoulder. "There will be a reckoning for all of their crimes, I promise you." His voice was dark and ominous. "But for now, we must retreat in self-defense. There is yet another concern that I had mentioned to you two days ago. There are others who need us, and we must make our way to them as swiftly as possible. To accomplish that, we need to call upon higher powers for help."

"Higher powers?"

"Yes, that's where we're going now. To Mount Taikyoku." The traveler sighed as he pulled a flowing cotton robe over his shirt and trousers. "My major problem is: how am I going to fit that cello onto our little horse?"

****

****

Glossary of Japanese Terms:

Okaa-san, 'Kaa-san - Mother

****

Author's note: (10-24-02) Whew! Not quite as traumatic as the last chapter, but still with its share of angsty moments. In fact, this chapter skates dangerously close to being a parody of Roku's style, since it contains nearly _all_ of my favorite elements - angst, nudity (hell, nudity squared!!), more angst along with the invention of events from a seishi's past, music with my favorite instrument - the cello!, songfic, voyeurism, and hey!! I've _always_ wanted to do a blanket scenario!!

Oh, the poem that the Doctor refers to - it's called "The Duel" by Eugene Field and details the battle between two stuffed toys at midnight. Yeah, instead of entertaining me when I was a kid, it really gave me the creeps, especially when they "ate each other up." Didja ever notice how violent and dark a lot of nursery rhymes and children's stories are? Like I have room to talk--but my stuff isn't _supposed_ to be for kids.

Ah, yes, and the mention of the Kel Tagelmousse, the veiled nomadic people of Sairo. They will play a pivotal role in "Hidden Paths," the "White Stones" sequel. Why do I keep teasing you about the sequel and yet refuse to post it? Sigh. All I can say is that I'm getting closer and closer to posting it, as I get further and further into "Bridge." Events are taking shape that will lead into the main plot of the sequel.

Well, the next thing I post will be a new chapter of "Casting Stones"; I have to get back to alternating between that fic and this one. I feel like a woman with too many children,unable to give sufficient attention to each one but struggling to do my best, anyway. So it will be a couple of weeks before you find out what happened to our intrepid "girl from the library", who will also finally have a name the next time you meet her! I am so sick of calling her "library girl" - Cheez!

See you next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	7. Masks, mirrors, and truth

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The character of Doctor Who is the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

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Chapter 7. Masks, Mirrors and Truth

She woke slowly for the second time that day, this time in dim light, with her head still aching from her near suffocation. Sitting up, she focused on her surroundings: she appeared to be in a rough wood house, seated on a straw mat. She got to her feet and walked around the simple one-room shelter, rubbing her arms and wincing at the bruises on her body, probably incurred while being dragged through the woods. She was glad that she wasn't tied up, but she had no doubt that she was now a prisoner of whomever had taken her in the woods. "Freakin' lovely way to spend spring break," she muttered to herself.

Just outside, she heard the hoofbeats of several horses approaching at a rapid clip. Moving swiftly to the window, she pulled aside the bamboo shade and squinted out into the midday sunlight. She appeared to be in a very small gathering of simple houses, more of a hamlet than a village. A plain dirt road snaked through the center of the loose congregation of homes, leading up into the foothills, where it wound out of sight on its way to the mountain peaks.

A flash of motion caught her eye, and she looked up at the incongruous sight of two turbaned and veiled riders trotting swiftly up the dirt path, leading a third horse behind them. The horse was small and shaggy, but it appeared sturdy, trotting unconcernedly beneath an awkward, bulky load that included, of all things, a large leather case that appeared to hold some kind of musical instrument.

"Cello?" the girl wondered. "Or string bass? I keep forgetting which is larger." Her eyes followed the riders until they passed out of her line of sight. She smirked in sudden amusement. "The Lawrence of Arabia Musical Duo off on their World Tour. Exceptional Selections Played for the Delectation of the Citizens of the Universe of the Four Gods!" She laughed at her own joke. "Yep, no doubt about it; I missed my true calling when I decided not to go into stand-up." Suddenly, she heard excited whispers and giggles outside the house and caught sight of a head ducking down behind the window. She leaned over the window sill and peered outside, catching sight of three adolescents--two boys and a girl--running off in the opposite direction.

"She's awake!" they called excitedly. "Miko-sama, she's awake now!"

She ducked back into the room, trying to smooth down her hair. There was no mirror, but she knew that her unruly locks were probably sticking out in about twenty different directions. Miko-sama: that term meant Lady Priestess. Something in her sighed in relief; it was probably unreasonable to expect anything, but the presence of children and an older woman made her feel a little more secure about her future.

The door opened, and a tall slender figure appeared in the doorway, bearing a scythe.

"_Gyaaahhhhh!_" the girl screamed, leaping up and running to the opposite corner of the room. She backed into the corner, trying to get into a defensible position.

The figure slowly lowered the scythe to the floor. "My apologies, my lady, I didn't mean to frighten you." The miko's voice was soft and cultured. "The children fetched me directly from the fields, and I had no time to..."

"Children!" shouted the three outraged teens, crowding into the room behind her. "We're not children!" argued the girl, who looked to be about 14 years old. "We're the fearless adventurers who found the Girl of Legend!"

The miko turned a stern glance on all three youths. "Yes, and you also managed to smother her into unconsciousness." The teens dropped their belligerent stances and looked abashed. "I've spoken to you before about your rash kidnapping of every foreign woman who appears in the sacred wood. In the last year, I have had to make apologies to a Hin priestess, a woman of the Kel Tagelmousse, and a very irate bandit girl!"

The eldest boy, a sturdy youth of sixteen or so summers, stepped forward. "But this time we got the right one, Miko-sama. Just look at her clothes; they _have_ to come from another world! Where else could you get such ugly, mannish garments?" he cried, waving a hand at her jeans.

The library girl flushed. "Just one minute here," she growled. "I'll have you know that these jeans cost me a fortune!"

"Jeeeenz," murmured the youths, impressed.

The miko sighed. "My apologies yet again, my lady. They do not mean to be insulting; they hope to be the ones to find the Girl of Prophecy." Her dark eyes examined the library girl. "Please excuse my poor manners. My name is Ruiko, and I am the miko of Kawagishi village." Her eyes glimmered with faint hope. "I do not recognize you from these parts, my lady. May I ask your name and where your home village is?"

The library girl sighed, unsure of how much she should confide in these people. "Well, I can tell you that my name is Josselin--but it's a little hard to explain where I came from."

"Joss-_reen_… Joss-_err_-een… Jah-_shreeen_…" the three teens tried to get their tongues around her name.

Josselin interrupted, impatient. "You can call me just Joss, if that's any easier."

"Jus-joss. Juuhhs-joss!"

"No, not Just-Joss; _Joss,_ that's all!"

"Joss!" the youngsters exclaimed, triumphant.

"Joss-_sama," _corrected Lady Ruiko, frowning at them.

"No, no, no; Joss-san will be good enough. I'm hardly a noble lady," stammered Josselin, embarrassed.

The miko turned a keen, appraising glance on the young woman. "May I ask about your home village? I would be very happy to escort you there since my young friends so rudely interrupted your day."

The teens pouted in disappointment, the second boy, a tall youth who appeared to be about 15 years old, possessing a particularly effective pout.

Josselin flushed. "I…uh, I'm afraid that's not possible. I live very far from here--er, _very_ far!" She swallowed nervously. "Listen, I'd be perfectly happy if you could just return me to the woods where I first--where you found me. I need to find some friends before they leave me behind. If they haven't already left," she added under her breath.

"Why would your friends leave you? It seemsstrange that friends would behave in such a way."

Joss flushed and stammered under the miko's keen gaze. "Well, you see, they don't exactly know that I'm here. Um, look, I know that this sounds confusing, but I don't have time to explain it all to you. Could you _please--_!" Joss struggled for a reasonable tone. "Could you please just escort me back there?"

"Of course, Joss-san. My apologies yet again for your rough treatment at the hands of these young people, who are further compounding their rudeness by their failure to introduce themselves properly!"

The three teens flushed darkly under the miko's pointed reprimand. The girl stepped forward and bowed deeply. "My name is Sachiko, and this is my friend Makoto," she indicated the tall 15-year-old boy. "And this clod is my brother Yoshio!" waving a disdainful hand at the sturdy 16-year old boy. The large boy glared and made a grab at her, but Sachiko nimbly side-stepped his grasp. Ruiko frowned at the children's antics, but Joss broke into a smile. It was obvious that Sachiko, in spite of being the youngest and smallest, was the ringleader of the group--and Joss heartily approved of females in dominant roles.

"Very well, Sachiko-_san_," Joss placed a sarcastic emphasis on the honorific, grinning cheerfully. "Lead on to the scene of the crime."

****

Two hours later, she was much less cheerful. An hour's hike had led them back to the hot spring, but a careful search of the surrounding area revealed no inhabitants and no sign of there ever having been anyone else at the spring. Joss was on the verge of thinking she'd dreamt the entire thing, until she spied the simple leather hair tie on the banks of the steaming pool. She stooped to pick it up, her face flushing at the memory of the scene. _Damn_ it! She should have rushed out of the lilacs and revealed herself, no matter how embarrassing the situation was! Now she was lost and alone in a foreign world, with no idea how to find the only two people who might be able to help her. Dropping onto the ground in a disconsolate heap, she raked her hands through her hair in frustration. The three teens stood off to one side, guiltily observing her obvious distress.

Lady Ruiko reappeared from the thicket of trees that the Doctor had stepped out of hours earlier. Joss looked up hopefully as the miko squatted beside her. "I've found traces of a campfire on the far side of the next clearing. It had been buried carefully, and it took all of my abilities to find even that much. Your friends have covered their tracks very skillfully--almost as if they were afraid of being followed." Her gaze was sharp and curious.

Joss sighed deeply as she thought of Magus and Kurayami. It was hardly surprising that the Doctor and Shouryuu would try to cover all traces of their whereabouts; the Doctor was no fool, and he'd already survived one attack on his person. The problem was, it just made it that much more difficult for _her_ to find them. "Just you wait, Kurayami," she muttered under her breath. "Someday, it'll be just you and me and a big stick... Just you wait!"

Ruiko waited patiently for Joss' reaction. Joss scratched her head, then looked up hopefully. "Maybe someone in the village knows something. Has anyone mentioned seeing strangers? One young man about age twenty, accompanied by a foreigner wearing strange velvet clothes?"

The miko frowned. "It's not unusual to see strangers in Kawagishi village, situated as we are near both the river and the mountain road. But since early this morning, the only strangers we have seen were those men of the Kel Tagelmousse."

"Kel Tagelmousse?"

"A nomadic people from Sairou who sometimes trade with us. The men are always turbaned and veiled, but other than their customary dress, I didn't notice any strange foreign clothes."

"Oh, I think I saw them when I first woke up! But they seemed to be just passing through."

"Yes, I believe that was them. This time, they didn't stop to trade; they just rode straight through, leading their little horse."

"Little horse," Joss repeated, trying to remember where she had just recently heard that phrase. That's right: she'd read it in the book! The Doctor was leading a little horse down the hillside... "Ohhhhhh, _SHIT!_" she screamed, shocking Lady Ruiko and delighting Sachiko and company. She staggered around the hot spring, clutching at her hair again. "I can't believe it! I was within twenty feet of them again, and I just--Shit, _shit,_ _SHIT!"_

She continued to curse, flinging her rage at the sky. "Damn you, Suzaku, what kind of twisted sense of humor do you have, anyway? If I ever get my hands on you, I'm gonna _pluck_ you till you're _BALD!"_

Now even the teens were shocked by her blasphemy, while Lady Ruiko was certain that the foreign girl had gone mad.

Finally Joss became aware of the shocked silence of her companions. She took a deep breath and attempted to speak in a more controlled voice. "Well," she said, embarrassed, "please accept my apologies for that uncontrolled display of--um, it's been a very frustrating day, and I guess I'm not dealing with it very well."

Lady Ruiko stepped forward, relieved that the foreign girl appeared to have regained her wits. "No, the apologies are all mine. You would never have found yourself so far from your companions if it hadn't been for my young friends."

"See?" hissed Sachiko to Makoto. "Only the Girl of Legend would dare to speak so to Suzaku!" Makoto had a look of skepticism fixed on his young, handsome features, but Yoshio nodded in agreement with his quicker-witted sister.

Ruiko fixed them with a quelling look, then turned to begin the trek back to the village. "We should return to Kawagishi and from there formulate a plan to assist you, Joss-san. My village is small and poor, but whatever we have is at your disposal."

Joss felt renewed shame at her bad-tempered outburst. "Thank you, Ruiko-sama, for your kindness. I hope that I would require very little: perhaps someone to guide me along the road until I catch up with my friends." The teens vibrated with excitement but remained silent under Ruiko's severe eye.

The miko sighed, turning the small party back towards the village. "There is a problem with your plan, Lady Joss. Your friends are several hours ahead of us. A half-league into the foothills beyond the village, the mountain road splits into three branches. The first branch occurs low in the foothills, turning to the west until it joins with the main thoroughfare to Eiyou, the Imperial City. The mountain road continues higher into the foothills, then splits in two once again. One branch leads over the mountains through the eastern pass, staying away from the higher altitudes, winding around until it reaches the East Road, a trade route that eventually ends in Kutou. The other branch, however, continues straight over the mountains, taking the highest passes into the wildest parts of Konan. Almost no one takes this route, except for people on blessed pilgrimages--and bandits."

Joss' shoulders drooped in resignation as she plodded along. "So you're saying there's no way for us to know which path they took?"

"No, unless they let you know something about their final destination."

A soft sigh. "No...no, they didn't."

The small party continued on their trek in silence, the gloom of their visitor dampening even the enthusiasm of the irrepressible Sachiko. As soon as they drew within sight of the village, two sets of parents began shouting at their wayward children to complete their chores before sundown. The teens dragged their feet as they moved off reluctantly, looking back at Joss, but Ruiko shooed them towards their duties before guiding her into her home.

One hour and two cups of tea later, Joss remained morose, considering and discarding various plans as she watched the sun descending behind the trees. She had to do _something_; she couldn't just sit in this village and wait for Suzaku to come down on a cloud. She was observant enough to deduce that the village barely supported its own inhabitants; an extra mouth to feed meant that someone had to go short, and that someone was most likely Ruiko-sama. Joss sighed deeply, inhaling the fragrance of the jasmine petals that floated on the surface of her tea.

Lady Ruiko looked up from her weaving in the far corner. She'd been puttering around her house with various tasks, politely giving Joss some space in which to gather her thoughts. However, at her visitor's disheartened exhalation, she set down her task.

"Excuse me, Joss-san, but perhaps I could help you if only you would confide in me. I apologize for my presumption in asking for your trust after such short acquaintance, but--"

"No... no, you're not presumptuous at all, Ruiko-sama. I'm the one who's being rude by being so vague about my circumstances." Anxiety darkened Joss' brown eyes. "It's just that I'm afraid that if I told you the truth about where I come from, you might think that I'm crazy."

Amusement lit up the miko's face. "You could be surprised at what I might believe. For example, I might believe that you came from another world."

Joss drew in a sharp breath. "How did you know? Does this happen all the time around here, girls dropping out of the sky from another world?"

The miko's laugh was light and musical. "No, in fact it has never happened in my lifetime. But prophecy tells us that we can expect a girl to arrive from another world to assist us when Konan finds itself in mortal peril. I can tell you that the situation is deteriorating with our neighboring country of Kutou: they treat our new emperor with arrogance and disdain and make raids on our border towns, although they claim that such raids are the fault of bandits." Ruiko sighed. "The emperor has sent out decrees to all areas of Konan, seeking out anyone who may know of a strange girl from another land, and he has offered a substantial reward to whomever can bring him the Girl of Prophecy. Thus the wild schemes and unfortunate capturing of every foreign woman by my three young friends; they hope to be the ones who find the Chosen One of Suzaku."

Joss' eyes widened for a moment, but she shook her head. "I may come from another world, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the Girl of Prophecy. For one thing, Suzaku didn't exactly _choose_ me; I sorta demanded that he bring me here...for a reason other than saving Konan. And for another thing," Joss coughed self-consciously, "I'm not exactly a girl. I mean, I'm female, all right, but...I'm a little older than what is usually called a girl, at least in these parts."

Lady Ruiko nodded wisely. "Ah, yes, I'd noticed that you were well beyond marriageable age, far older than we expected."

Joss choked on her tea. "Well, I'm not exactly ready to be put out of my misery, either!"

"I apologize yet again, Joss-san; I did not mean to insult you. My limited knowledge of the old scrolls placed the previous Girls of Legend near age fifteen, the normal age for a girl to be promised in marriage."

"_Fifteen?_ In my country, you'd be arrested for trying to, er, marry a fifteen-year-old, whether boy or girl! In fact, _I've_ just reached the age where people consider me old enough to make a life decision like marriage."

"Different worlds," breathed Ruiko, her eyes wide with wonder. "And these "older" women from your world; some of them survive childbirth?"

"Some? _Most_ women survive--" Joss stopped suddenly, realizing the reason behind the youthful brides. _'Stronger immune systems,_' she thought to herself. _'Better able to fight infection, which is probably a universal problem during childbirth. Not to mention being on the upward slope of fertility, enabling them to give birth to greater numbers of children, increasing the chances that at least one or two of the children will survive into adulthood._" Joss sighed. It was so easy to be judgmental about child-brides when one stood safely behind the shields of antiseptics, antibiotics, and vaccinations. The harsher realities of less advanced societies forced them to make compromises to ensure their survival. Yet it was difficult not to cringe at the price that had to be paid by the young and vulnerable.

"Why must it always be the children who suffer?" whispered Joss, then blinked. Where had she just heard those words? Oh, yes: the Doctor, in his conversation with Suzaku. That memory drew her thoughts from their somber path back to her own--and Lady Ruiko's--predicament: what was her next course of action? She looked up into the kind, wise eyes of the village miko and decided to put her independent nature to the side for once and ask for help.

"Ruiko-sama, you've been more than kind to me, but I'm afraid that I need to ask yet more of you. I'll be honest with you; I'm afraid that maybe I've arrived in your world uninvited, in a way, and the only people that can help me are the two men I'd described to you. However," Joss gave an embarrassed cough, "they're not really my friends. I mean, I think of _them_ as friends, but they don't even know I exist. And so...so I'm pretty much lost and alone in a strange land, and I'm not sure what I should do next."

The miko sat down beside Joss and clasped her hand between both of her own. "You are not alone, Joss-san; I will always be your friend." Joss smiled back at her gratefully. Ruiko assumed a mock-severe expression. "Not to mention those three young scamps who owe you much more than just friendship. But we understand that you cannot just remain here indefinitely. There is only one person that I can think of who can help you--and that is the Emperor."

Joss shuddered. She remembered the autocratic ways of historic royalty as depicted in books and on television; most vividly, the way that the least offense would result in one's head rolling across the floor. She had no idea as to how to address the Emperor or even how deep to bow in his presence; at her level of ignorance of the local customs, it'd be like placing her neck in the noose to go before such a powerful person.

She cleared her throat. "Er, Ruiko-sama, I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, what if I offend the Emperor? I could end up dead before I get more than three sentences out of my mouth! Is there somebody, maybe a little less high-ranking, that I could go to for help?"

Lady Ruiko smiled. "I've heard that the new Emperor is very kind and tolerant. The one thing that I'm certain of is that he's very likely to be eager to speak with you. Even if you're not the Girl of Prophecy, you do come from another world, and that aspect alone makes you very valuable as a source of information. I also find your manners to be very pleasant, although I might recommend that you refrain from using_ colorful_ expressions of dismay in his presence and making threats against his patron god." Her eyes danced in amusement.

"Well," Joss sighed, "I sure as heck can't come up with a better plan, so I guess I'll just have to hope for the best with the Emperor. I think I'll leave first thing in the morning. Did you say the first branch off the mountain road leads to the Imperial City?"

"Oh, Joss-san, I will not abandon you to make your way through this country all alone. I will accompany you, and I have a very strong suspicion that we may find ourselves with three young escorts, as well. After all, they will need to collect their reward, won't they?"

Joss and Lady Ruiko both burst out laughing. After a few moments, Joss began to look embarrassed and uncomfortable. "Er, Ruiko-sama, I need to ask you about…" she whispered in the miko's ear.

"Oh, of course! I should have let you know earlier. Here," the miko handed something to the younger woman and pointed her out the door.

One minute later, a shadowed figure marched out into the twilit woods, clutching something that looked like a small shovel and a bundle of papers. She grumbled to herself as she stomped out into the darkness. "Note to myself: the next time I decide to get myself transported to an alternate universe, make sure that the most primitive form of plumbing they have is the flush toilet! God, I _hate _camping!"

****

That same night, in a sheltered copse of trees just off the rarely-traveled southbound branch of the road that led high into the mountains, the pair of travelers had paused in their journey. Their campfire crackled and leaped merrily in its small circle of stones, sending tiny glowing sparks shooting heavenward, disappearing into the velvet blackness of the night. The two men sat contemplating the fire--well, one man at least sat gazing meditatively into the flames. The other would sit, stare into the flames a bit, then leap up and add some twigs, sit and ponder the resulting sparks for a few seconds more, then leap up and run into their tent, return bearing books or apples, sit for another half-minute, then leap up, and--

"Doctor!"

"Yes, Houjun?"

"Must you--? _Can't_ you--?" A controlled breath, then a gentle, patient tone. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Why, no, thank you very much all the same. Why do you ask?"

"You seem a little unsettled this evening."

"Do I? I hadn't noticed. Are you certain?"

"Yes!" In a quieter tone. "Yes; is something troubling you?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no; perhaps I just have a mild case of ants-in-the-pants."

A mahogany eye turned to his in shock, wide with a combination of sympathy and horror. "You should have said something earlier, Doctor! There's a spell that I could try--"

The musical laugh rang out, cutting off Houjun's offer of help. "Oh, no, I didn't mean that literally, Houjun! It's just an expression I picked up on Ear...during my travels. It means that I'm restless for no particular reason." His eyes danced in amusement. "And as much confidence as I have in your abilities, my dear boy, I would just as soon avoid having any spells directed at my, er, pants."

Houjun couldn't help joining in with the Doctor's infectious laughter. He marveled once again at the feeling of lightness that filled him in this man's presence. But just as the warm glow of lamplight emphasizes the shadows outside the door, Houjun's current happiness could not erase the darkness that lurked at the edges of his soul.

He turned his gaze back to the fire, frowning as he felt carefully around his ki. There it was again: a strange sensation of darkness; no, almost a _lack_ of sensation, like a limb that had fallen asleep. He'd first begun to notice it the second time he'd utilized the soul-killing magic, but it had become even more marked since this last exorcism. Houjun shuddered. He'd tried to keep thoughts of that dark and tragic event out of his mind as they rode into the mountains, but it was inevitable that the exorcism would return to haunt him as soon as he had quiet time to think. Even the Doctor's compassion and forgiveness could not erase the hold that the tragedy had on his thoughts--and his soul. Houjun propped his chin in his hand and sighed. Beyond his grief for Toumo and Midori-sama, beyond his growing rage at Kurayami and Magus, he was ashamed to admit that there was also a frisson of fear for himself. This darkness in his ki: what did it mean for his future? Would it ever go away? Or would it swallow him bit by bit until there was nothing left of him? He pondered his unknown fate grimly, then realized that there was now someone with whom he could share his burdens. The someone who sat quietly beside him for once, staring into the flames, waiting patiently.

"Doctor..."

"Hmmm?"

"Do you remember what you said a few days ago about fighting with monsters? Do you think that could happen to me: becoming a...monster?"

A deep sigh from the traveler.

_"Doctor?"_

"No, there's no need to panic; I'm not about to say 'Yes!' You must remember the entire quote: 'He who fights with monsters _might take care_ lest he become a monster', the operative term being 'might take care.' It just implies that there is a risk; it is by no means a certainty."

"But what about me? Am I at greater risk?"

The dancing flames of the campfire sent ripples of light and shadow to play across the traveler's face. Houjun strained to make out the Doctor's true expression behind the mask of flickering light and dark. The Doctor's eyes suddenly turned to Houjun, their emerald depths glowing in his shadowed face. The musical tones of his voice held a strange resonance.

"Any one of us can become a monster. Some of the worst monsters in history have been, to all outward appearances, innocuous, unassuming men. But it is true that those of us who wrestle with the darkness seem to have the greatest potential to become one with the darkness. This may be due to some power within us that calls out to the power of evil to join with it--or it may be the fact that close proximity presents increased opportunities for evil to cross over into us. The second part of that quote about monsters goes on to say: 'And if you gaze for long into an abyss...the abyss gazes also into you.'"

The resonant voice paused for a moment, then continued, picking its words with care. "The abilities you possess that allow you to join with the darkness and turn its power to your hand...yes, those _do_ place you at greater risk, Houjun. But your willingness to enter into battle on the side of Good is also one of your best defenses against Evil. You have a fierce heart and a strong soul; once again, these attributes help you to stave off Evil, at the same time that they draw Evil to you. The abyss gazes into you each time that you gaze into it, and so gains knowledge of you, knowledge that translates into power over you. How often you can enter Evil's battleground and still retain yourself: no one knows that, not even me." A soft sigh. "And I can't tell you how often I wish I _did_ know."

Houjun's voice was controlled and steady. "So what am I to do, Doctor? Avoid fighting Evil for my own sake, allowing people like Kurayami to wreak their destruction unopposed? Or go into battle time and time again until I am lost, perhaps even joining with the Evil, thus strengthening it even more? How do I fight the abyss without gazing into it?" In spite of his best efforts, frustration still reverberated in his tones.

The Doctor placed his hand on Houjun's. "There is another way," he replied softly. "In spite of our best intentions, there will always be times when we are forced to descend into the abyss, but we needn't do that _every_ time. We can fight Evil another way."

"How?"

"We can build a bridge over the abyss. We can create a path that leads others and ourselves out of reach of the pit. It takes tremendous effort, but in the end, it may well be the most effective way to defeat the darkness."

Houjun frowned as he tried to grasp the concept. "Could you be more specific, Doctor? I'm sorry, but I need you to explain it to me a little more clearly."

The Doctor's eyes twinkled as they lost their mystical glow and shaded back to their customary blue. "I believe that it's better to show someone what you mean instead of telling him. So you will have to wait, Houjun, until the end of our journey--and then I shall expect _you_ to explain it to _me_." He laughed as Houjun tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

"Off to bed with you, young man!" he commanded, waving a hand towards the tent. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Houjun rose and turned towards the tent, then paused. "Aren't you coming, Doctor?" He flushed briefly. "I mean, I could take first watch if you would like to get some rest."

"Oh, I'm not standing watch, Houjun. It's really not necessary at this point in our journey. I merely do not require much sleep." He sighed at the Houjun's skeptical expression. "Oh, very well; what if I promise to get some sleep as soon as I feel the need for it? Will that suffice, Mother Hen?"

Houjun cocked an eyebrow at his friend, then nodded. "See that you do," he ordered, then turned and entered the tent.

The Doctor tilted his head, bemused. "Since when did _he_ become the one in charge?" he asked himself, and grinned. Turning back to the fire, he became somber once more. "The abyss," he whispered...and shivered. He spent a few minutes in dark introspection, then gave himself a quick internal shake. Turning around, he picked up his book and bit into his apple, settling into a comfortable position for the night.

****

The next afternoon, as the sun began its long descent into the west, two mounted figures paused at the crest of the largest foothill. They gazed off into the distance at the snow-covered peak that rose above the surrounding mist-covered mountains. One of the veiled men pulled his horse so that it danced closer to his companion's mount.

"So that's it then: Mount Taikyoku?"

"Yes." His companion continued to stare at the peak in calm absorption, placidly enjoying the view.

"It looks to be at least two days ride before we reach the base, then Suzaku only knows how long it will take to ascend to the summit. Do you think we have enough rations and supplies, or should we stop at the next village?"

Blue eyes creased briefly in amusement. "More than enough, since we'll be there and back by tonight."

"Tonight?" Houjun could not keep the disbelief out of his voice. He firmly repressed his incredulous questions, trying to school himself in self-discipline and calm acceptance of his master's words, as he had been taught in the school of the warrior-magicians.

"Oh, that's a load of rubbish!" barked the Doctor, making Houjun jump. "How are you ever going to learn anything if you don't ask questions? All that twaddle about Zen-like acceptance of someone's unproven assertions is just a sort of petty tyranny of the mind! I can see that we're going to have to do some spring cleaning to rid you of some of the absolute claptrap they poured into your head at that place."

Houjun cocked his visible eyebrow at his friend. "Doctor."

"Yes, my boy?"

"You've been reading my mind again."

The Doctor flushed beneath his face veil. "Assuredly not! I promise you that I have this translational interface _completely_ under my control. I would never dream of doing something so rude!"

"Doctor…"

"No, I distinctly heard you speak aloud! I'm certain of it!"

"You heard me speak aloud regarding my intention not to speak my questions aloud."

"Ah…er…well, when you put it that way…" An appealing azure glance was sent his way. "You're quite _certain_ that you didn't verbalize those thoughts?"

A brief nod.

A deep sigh. "Well, it seems I owe you an apology yet again. I never meant to--"

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

The mahogany eye creased in amusement. "I don't mind. I just wanted to tease you a bit."

A merry laugh rang out over the foothills. "I thought as much! I suspected that there was a sense of humor lurking somewhere under that sober, introspective demeanor!"

"Well, since you encourage me to ask questions, here are a few that have passed through my mind. First of all, how are we going to get to Mount Taikyoku and back by nightfall? Next, why exactly are we going there? Does this have anything to do with us building that bridge you spoke of? Last but not least, how do you keep making things appear out of thin air? First that fishing net, then all these strange camping supplies, not to mention that "chello" thing--and where do they come from? I've never seen materials like this before."

The Doctor dropped his reins onto his horse's neck and held up both hands in self-defense, laughing. "Enough already, my boy! It seems to be either feast or famine with you! So to answer your questions, by magic, you'll see, yes, and all will become clear in the end! If I sound somewhat cryptic, it's because the first of your questions is about to be answered. Here is our transport to Mount Taikyoku now."

Houjun looked up to see a dark shape spinning towards them out of the sky. He jerked his reins in surprise, and his horse snorted and danced out of the way of the strange object. To his complete amazement, a large and ornate carpet settled gently on the ground before them. The Doctor dismounted and tied his horse and the mountain pony to a nearby tree, then scattered some hay wisps before them. Houjun numbly followed suit, sneaking peeks at the carpet as if expecting it to jump up and attack them. The Doctor strolled over and sat down on the carpet, crossing his legs. Houjun followed him hesitantly.

"Don't be afraid, Houjun; it's perfectly safe. At least I _think_ it is." The Doctor grinned. "It's also terribly cliched, but then again, why tamper with success? A flying carpet should meet our needs perfectly."

The carpet rose gently into the air, before moving forward at high speed. Surprisingly, it mystically avoided generating the strong wind and icy cold that should have been produced by the speed of their passage; it felt as if they were contained in a protective bubble. Nevertheless, Houjun couldn't help clutching nervously at the carpet fibers as he gazed down at the long drop beneath them. A cheerful voice reached his ears. "The trick is: don't look down! That's how I deal with my fear of heights."

Houjun looked up as they rapidly approached the snowy, windswept peak of Mount Taikyoku. He pulled his nomadic robes tightly around himself, bracing for the expected blast of icy wind, but to his shock, the landscape suddenly shifted to that of a verdant mountaintop lushly decorated with the blooms of high spring. Set high on the peak was a large complex of buildings comprised of an ornate, sprawling palace and several smaller buildings surrounding a large open courtyard. The carpet drifted around mystical floating spheres to land gently in the exquisite gardens of the courtyard. Following the Doctor on unsteady legs, Houjun kept swiveling around to stare at the intricately carved temples that bordered the courtyard of the enormous palace. His gaze kept drifting back to the floating spheres that were glowing in the light of the setting sun. He felt a strange sense of disconnection, as if he were walking in a dream.

The Doctor pattered ahead happily, gazing at a piece of paper that appeared to be some kind of map. He whistled a lively tune as he negotiated the courtyard and strode into the dim passages of the palace. Houjun couldn't help but feel that there was something slightly disrespectful about the Doctor's whistling. The hushed and solemn atmosphere seemed to demand an equally hushed and respectful attitude from its visitors, but the Doctor sent the cheerful notes out into the air like a challenge.

At last, they stood before two enormous doors richly decorated with elaborate carvings of the Four Gods. The Doctor paused only a moment before pushing confidently through the doors. They found themselves in a temple, looking around at the spacious, vaulted interior that had been decorated with skillfully rendered statues of the Four Gods. The soft golden light from intricately pierced oil lamps reflected off the gold of Suzaku's wings, the ebony of Genbu's shell, the white jade and black obsidian of Byakko's stripes, and the sapphire eyes of Seiryuu. A quietly murmuring serenity fountain sent its waters trickling smoothly down a marble slope to form a moat around a large raised dais.

Houjun's head suddenly snapped up as he sensed a presence in the temple with them. He raised his ash staff into a defensive position as he registered a low rumbling growl from the shadows behind the dais.

The Doctor placed a hand on the staff, restraining him, then began to make odd kissing noises in the direction of the growl. "Here, Puss, Puss," he called softly. A huge shape stalked around the dais, its silver-blue fur rippling over a heavily muscled body that stood five feet tall at the shoulder. Houjun froze in shock at the sight of the enormous panther, but the Doctor only increased his kissing noises at it. "Here, kitty, kitty," he called idiotically. "Who's a pretty kitty, then, right? Whooo's a pretty, _pretty_ kitty?"

Houjun glanced askance at his mentor, who appeared to have lost his mind. "Er, Doctor," he hissed, trying to bring the man back to his senses. The panther stalked closer, its silver eyes flashing feline contempt at the Doctor's friendly overtures.

"Oh, you're such a _sweet_ puss!" exclaimed the Doctor, completely ignoring the raised hackles and hostile stare of the animal. Houjun struggled to pull his staff from the Doctor's grip. Although the Doctor had only a few fingers lightly touching the staff, his companion was surprised to find that he was unable to budge it. The Doctor made some more kissing noises at the panther, who suddenly hissed in fury at the interlopers.

"Oh, so you don't like being treated like a cat, eh?" The Doctor's voice was suddenly clear and mocking. "Well, I don't like being treated like a mouse. So why don't we stop with the games and start communicating like two sentient beings?"

The panther's eyes flashed silver as it opened its mouth, baring its fangs. There was a flash of light, and a young woman stood before them in the beast's place, her blue hair twisted up into an elaborate hairdo. She wore silken robes over diaphanous underdresses, giving her a rich and mystical appearance. Houjun closed his jaw when he realized that he was gaping stupidly at the girl. Once again, he was grateful for the concealing face veil.

"You are in the Temple of Taiitsukun, the Oracle of the Four Gods." Her voice was clear and cultured. "You will state your purpose in coming here."

"Manners," clucked the Doctor disapprovingly. "You should be expecting us, but perhaps there has been a breakdown in communications. Very well, I'll go ahead with the introductions. I'm the Doctor and this is my friend Ri-san. We are here to consult with Taiitsukun by special request." The Doctor drew close to the girl and opened his hand. She stared at the object in his palm, then looked up into his suddenly sharp gaze.

"Very well," she acceded graciously. "I will go to inform Taiitsukun of your arrival. Please make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, you may call for me; my name is Nyan." She turned and walked out of the shrine, her steps still imbued with feline grace.

As soon as she left the shrine, the Doctor let out a long breath and turned an amused gaze at his companion. "Well, I don't know about you, but for a moment there, I thought we were done for!" he remarked cheerfully.

****

Deep within the palace, an imposing, graceful male figure clad in an elaborate robe and headdress waved his hand and converted himself into his usual guise: that of an intimidatingly ugly old woman with fierce beady eyes and hanging jowls. She/he floated in a cross-legged position as she/he peered into a mystical mirror, the reflection showing not her unprepossessing features but rather the scene within her own temple, two figures waiting within. The Oracle of the Four Gods glared at a veiled and turbaned figure as he moved energetically around her temple, opening and peering curiously inside cabinets and decorative jars, occasionally uttering exclamations of interest and pleasure. His companion was more enigmatic, standing quietly to one side but keeping his attention sharply focused on the moving figure. The moving figure turned and knocked an elaborate vase off its stand, catching it skillfully with a cry of "Whoops!" Taiitsukun sighed in aggravation as she arranged her ribbons around her person. She had hoped to instill some apprehensive dread in her visitors by subjecting them to a long wait, but it was obvious that she had best make an appearance before they destroyed all the artifacts in her temple.

"Ahem!" The Oracle appeared suddenly in her shrine, floating ominously above her dais and fixing the hyperactive one with her best gimlet-eyed glare, complete with quivering jowls. The quieter one flinched back, although he did not utter a sound, but to her considerable disappointment, the energetic one failed to react to her formidable appearance with the expected cries of dismay and fear. Instead, he unhooked his face veil so as to get a better look at her and fixed her with a delighted, cheeky grin.

"Ah, there you are!" His voice was musical and strangely accented, his features handsome and strong. "I'd almost given up hope of seeing you today! It's ever so kind of you to tear yourself away from your multitude of duties to grant us the pleasure of your company."

Taiitsukun narrowed her eyes at the stranger, suspecting mockery hidden beneath his effusiveness, but he fixed her with a limpid, innocent gaze, unblinking in the face of her piercing stare. Abandoning her attempt to intimidate him, she decided to proceed with their encounter.

"You have requested an audience with me, and so I have appeared. You may state the purpose of your visit without delay!"

The Doctor winced at her harsh tones. "Goodness, manners certainly seem to be in short supply on top of mystical mountains. Yet it provides no excuse for me to forget my own manners. I am the Doctor, and this is my friend Ri-san. I have been recommended to seek you out by a…mutual friend." He drew closer to Taiitsukun, showing her the object in his hand. She stared down at the crimson phoenix feather. It was as she had been forewarned by Suzaku: the Doctor had arrived, and the feather served as proof of his identity. Taiitsukun sighed, knowing that she now had to treat him with a modicum of civility.

"Very well, Doctor; what can I do for you--you and your friend?" She sent a keen glance towards the enigmatic figure in the shadows, but he remained securely hidden behind a shield of impressive magnitude and density. Whenever she tried to get a glimpse of his ki, it was as if she were blocked by swirling, shifting shadows. Taiitsukun frowned, distrustful of his secretive persona.

The Doctor's ki, on the other hand, seemed to be dancing in a rainbow of shimmering light, but as she looked closer, she realized that she was seeing images reflecting at her from all directions as if she were gazing at a wall of mirrors. The Oracle clenched her jaw. The Doctor, for all his apparent openness, was as securely hidden as his companion. He was a trickster who could make you believe in the visions he presented before your eyes. Taiitsukun mentally cursed Suzaku for bringing strangers into their carefully ordered universe. The phoenix-god was one of the younger seikun and still exhibited impulsive behavior from time to time, often breaking rules that they had painstakingly crafted over the millennia to protect their fragile world.

The Doctor interrupted her dark musings. "I need to borrow a device from you, a device recommended by our mutual friend. Its purpose is to display the location of certain…celestial symbols."

Taiitsukun scowled furiously. "This is completely unprecedented! That mirror is only for the use of the Girl of Legend! It is her destined duty to assemble the…celestial symbols, and none may interfere, not even an itinerant wanderer, no matter how impressive his connections. I know for a fact that it is far too early to seek out the ones you want; most of them are not even of age! Who knows what damage you may do to the timelines if you bring them together before their predestined time?"

"I never said that I was going to bring them together; it's not my intention to take over the role of the Girl of Legend," blue eyes creased in amusement. "I have, let's say, a _physician's_ interest in these celestial symbols. On the other hand, if you would like to recheck my credentials, I have them right here." He subtly waved the phoenix feather in her direction, keeping the object hidden from his quiet companion. Taiitsukun narrowed her eyes as she realized that the Doctor wanted to keep much of this mission hidden from the other man.

"Nyan!" she called out harshly. Seconds later, a cherubic blue-haired girl popped into view, swooping merrily over their heads. Her demeanor was very different from the cautious, challenging personality she had presented a few minutes ago. "Fetch the celestial mirror; the smaller one."

Nyan's eyes flashed silver briefly in surprise and doubt. But Taiitsukun directed a quelling glare in her direction, so the girl flew off shrieking happily. "Yes, yes! Nyan-nyan seeks, Nyan-nyan fetches! Nyan-nyan wants to make Taiitsukun's scary face happy!" The Oracle sighed in aggravation, and the Doctor tucked the feather away in a fold of his robes.

Moments later, Nyan-nyan popped back into view clutching a compact-like mirror. Taiitsukun handed it to the Doctor, who peered at its surface. A crimson symbol began to form mistily beneath the reflective glass, finally taking shape on the surface. "Star," breathed the Doctor. "And city--the Imperial City, I presume?"

Taiitsukun nodded curtly. "So it would seem. Your journey commences there, Doctor. I wish you luck in your endeavor."

"Wait, please. I have one more request." He waved his quiet companion to their side and signaled him to remove his turban and veil. "My young friend has rather distinctive features, and it is essential that we travel incognito on our quest. So I was hoping that you might provide us with a way to conceal his true features."

Taiitsukun gazed at the young man's scarred face in shock. It was not the scar that shocked her; it was the fact that his apprehension had caused his shield to waver for a moment, and she caught a brief glimpse of-- The youth seemed to stand in a halo of crimson light, feathered wings sweeping upward from his shoulders, and… The Oracle gasped.

"It _can't_ be!" she hissed. "It's not _possible,_ not for the past few centuries!" The young man cast his eye down in humiliation, mistaking her reaction for dismay at his disfigurement. The Doctor frowned at Taiitsukun and signaled her to move away from the youth.

"That's enough," he rebuked the Oracle quietly. "He has burdens enough; he doesn't need to add any more to his load."

Taiitsukun shook her head. "No. You don't understand: this changes everything! You must leave him here with me! I will train him in what he needs to know."

"No." The refusal was flat. "He will be yours soon enough, but for now, he's coming with me. What he needs right now, you cannot provide. He will come back to you when it's time."

"Time!" Her tones were harsh and angry. "What do you know of time?"

The Doctor's gaze grew distant. "Oh, I know a bit about it." His eyes turned to meet hers, and she was surprised to see that they now shimmered with an emerald light. Taiitsukun gasped for the second time, as the ki of the Doctor suddenly revealed itself from behind his shield of light.

He was far older than she had expected - far older than anyone she had ever met before, outside of herself and her fellow seikun. He was perhaps half her age and yet…yet there was a sense of eternity about him, as if he had been present at events that had occurred millennia before her own birth. Taiitsukun suddenly shivered; the feeling of time became oppressive, heavy, as if the centuries were accumulating around her, weighing her down in the passage of years. She looked up into the stranger's green-blue eyes and suddenly saw a vision of him striding towards her, parting the ocean of years, moving lightly through the currents of time--and she finally understood.

"You're a time-traveler," she whispered in awe, her eyes narrowing as she made out yet something _more_ about him: something murky, hidden, barely visible to her inner eye. Taiitsukun sucked in her breath. "And something more; you can also _alter_…"

"Yes, yes, enough about me," interrupted the Doctor, his eyes shading back to an innocent blue. "Let's talk about you." His tones were smooth and pleasant, but she sensed that he was fiercely warning her away from this aspect of his person. She decided to comply, suddenly unsure of exactly how much power was hidden within his outwardly innocuous form. Taiitsukun frowned as she once more considered the rashness of Suzaku in bringing the Doctor here. However, there was no blaming Suzaku for the initial problem that precipitated the seikun's plan.

"What do you think you can do for my young friend? Perhaps a mystical mask?"

Taiitsukun blinked, having forgotten about that part of the Doctor's request in the shock of recent revelations. She cleared her throat. "Of course, Doctor. Nyan-nyan!"

The cherubic girl appeared from right behind her, popping loudly into view, causing Taiitsukun to flinch and mutter angrily. "You heard the Doctor. Fetch a mask immediately!" Nyan-nyan flew off, giggling happily, only to return moments later.

Taiitsukun signaled the younger man to approach her. He now stood securely behind his ki shield again, but he couldn't help a mental flinching away from her keen, assessing gaze. Taiitsukun handed him a blank, flesh-colored mask of a mystical, shifting material. "Put it on," she ordered.

Houjun lifted the mask to his face hesitantly, wary of the fact that it appeared to have no eyeholes or nostril vents as yet, then felt the mystical material attach to his own skin, melting into it. He realized that he could see and breathe perfectly. The Doctor had a look of surprise written across his features. Nyan-nyan flew up and presented Houjun with a mirror.

Houjun stared at the man in the mirror. It was him: his face, his features as they had appeared before the flood, but older now, showing his new maturity. Silvery-blue bangs hung low across his face, brushing past mahogany eyes that turned and focused in perfect accord, as if both eyes were real. The firm, delicate nose looked as it had in the past, the bridge lacking the scar that slashed across it. His mouth trembled in emotion, and his eyes, both mystical and real, filled with tears.

The Doctor reached him in a few quick strides, gripping his shoulders in a reassuring squeeze, before handing him his discarded turban and veil. Houjun fumbled with them gratefully, glad to hide the tears that ran silently down his face. His mentor turned and addressed the Oracle in his stead.

"Thank you," he murmured in gratitude. "We are in your debt."

Taiitsukun nodded in acknowledgment, faintly surprised at the honest expression of emotion from the two previously enigmatic figures. However, she couldn't resist trying to pry beneath the surface of the Doctor's astounding self-possession one last time.

"So, Doctor, you are unique in being unperturbed by my appearance. Perhaps_ someone_ warned you of what to expect?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," the Doctor hastened to assure her. "When you've traveled as much as I have, you learn to look at outward appearances with a certain amount of perspective. After all, standards of beauty vary widely from place to place. For example, your current guise would make you all the rage among the flying toad-hydras of Arcturus IV. In fact, you would be beating suitors off with a stick." He paused, stroking his lip, deep in thought. "Of course, that being an essential component of their mating ritual, I'm not certain if you would care for the response--"

"Out, you insolent young dog!" the Oracle shouted, having lost all patience with the man at last.

The Doctor sketched a deep and elaborate bow in the manner of a seventeenth-century courtier, then, seizing his companion's arm, made a rapid exit from the shrine.

Once outside the shrine, he leaned back against the elaborately carved doors and shook with muffled laughter. Houjun peered anxiously around the Doctor's shoulders to see if Taiitsukun would suddenly appear and shout at them for desecrating her shrine.

"Doctor…"

The Doctor regained control with some difficulty, gasping for breath, then refastening his veil. "Yes, my boy?" The azure eyes still danced with merriment.

"Do you think it's_ wise_ to provoke a being as powerful as the Oracle?"

The lilting tones were flippant. "Oh, she's a dear old thing with no real harm in her."

Houjun raised his eyebrows at hearing the Oracle of the Four Gods described as "a dear old thing."

"In any case," the Doctor continued, his voice still bubbling with amusement, "half the fun in life is living dangerously!"

****

****

**Quotation source:**

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster,

And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche_, Jenseits von Gut und Bose_

I actually found this quote in a Kate Orman Seventh Doctor novel called "The Left-Handed Hummingbird." (copyright 1993, Virgin Publishing)

****

**Author's Notes: (12-5-02)** Well, where the heck have I been? Two simple words: work and family. I hope to do better, but I hate saying that, because it's like tempting fate: every time I say that, the stuff hits the fan. The result of my delays - a special announcement about the "White Stones" sequel that can be accessed on my author page.

Thank you for your patience with this transition chapter. Whew, transition chapters are _tough!_ Not much action, that's the problem. But I promise that the quest begins in the next chapter, and the pace picks up. Oh, and I need to thank Aikido-chan for her beta-reading of this chapter, and her continuous battle to reduce my incidences of redundancy, repetition, reiteration--Oh, God, there I go again!

I especially want to thank all of you reviewers who say such kind things about the Doctor. I'll be honest; although the Doctor is a legendary figure in sci-fi (well, in British sci-fi, anyway), he is to most FY fans practically an original character, and I've been very nervous over my portrayal of him. So thanks to those of you who have told me that, to quote J. Liha, he friggin' rocks!! 'Cause he does - at least to _me_, and those kind of comments warm the cockles of my heart. (No, that's not a naughty word.)

Well, some mysterious things about the Doctor and about Chichiri--will you find out what they mean? Hmmmm…maybe eventually - but not necessarily in this fic.

Till next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	8. Converging paths

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 8. Converging Paths

Five figures stared in awe at the magnificence of the Imperial Palace in Eiyou, its curved golden rooftops towering over the surrounding city. They could see only portions of the upper level architecture, being that most of the palace and its associated buildings in the Imperial compound were hidden behind high walls and exquisitely pruned trees. Plain white banners hung on the support pillars of every edifice, while swathes of white cloth lay draped across the iron gates. The Imperial guards also wore white tunics over sober grey uniforms.

The young woman clad in strange foreign clothes leaned nearer to a slender woman clad in the robes of a village priestess, murmuring "Somehow I expected the place to be decorated in Suzaku red."

"Under normal conditions, you would be correct, Joss-san. But the Palace is in mourning for the Dowager Empress, and white is our color for sorrow."

Joss frowned in consternation. "We're arriving at the wrong time, then. Damn it! I hate to intrude on the Emperor in his time of grief, but I don't know if I can wait until the mourning period is over."

Lady Ruiko smiled at her new friend. "I very much doubt that you can wait, Joss-san, since the mourning period is twenty-seven months, and the Dowager Empress died just ten months ago."

Joss whistled in surprise, drawing admiring stares from their three teenaged escorts. "Whoa, that's some heavy-duty mourning! On the bright side, I would suppose that the Emperor will probably no longer be prostrate with grief."

"That would also be my supposition, but one never knows. I was speaking to some shopkeepers in the marketplace, and they told me of the tragic story of the Dowager Empress. It seems that she and her son were very close, and she'd spent nearly all of the years of his life trying to secure his future as Emperor. Her efforts paid off, and Saihitei was finally crowned Emperor--but the Dowager Empress had only a few months in which to enjoy the fruits of her long struggle before she suddenly took ill and died." Ruiko shook her head sadly. "She was a relatively young woman."

The three teens, Sachiko, Makoto, and Yoshio, listened with wide eyes and wide-open ears to the fascinating history of the exalted rulers of their country. They'd been nearly beside themselves with joy throughout the entire three-day journey, and now, exposed to the stunning sight of a crowded city and a bustling marketplace for the first time in their lives, they still managed to maintain an air of self-importance at their mission. Even as they gaped at the pyramids of produce, cages of poultry, and barrels of live shellfish, they made sure to whisper to each stallkeeper, pointing at Joss and explaining their pivotal role in finding the Girl Who Would Save Konan. Joss was blissfully unaware of the eyes that subsequently followed her, and the current of interest stirred by her passing.

The Girl Who Would Save Konan stood at the Palace gates, frowning and tapping her chin. "I'm not sure what we should do next, Ruiko-sama. In my world, marching up to the front gates of the ruler's home and saying, "Excuse me, but I have something of importance to tell the President!" will earn you a swift place in the local prison."

The words were barely out of her mouth when a small shadow strode swiftly past her, straight up to the two guards at the gate. "Excuse me, but please tell the Emperor that we need to see him immediately!" announced Sachiko in her best patrician tones. Joss groaned and put her hand up to her forehead.

"Oh, so you'd like to speak to the Emperor, Mistress Ragamuffin!" retorted one of the guards, amused. "Would you like us to have him walk down here in person, or would you prefer that he send his golden palanquin to carry you up to the Palace?"

Sachiko frowned in indecision for a moment, then made up her mind, "The golden palanquin, I think. It would not be polite to expect the Emperor to make a long walk on behalf of people he has not yet met."

The guards roared with laughter, and Ruiko hurried up to draw Sachiko away. But the fiery young girl realized that the guards were mocking her, and she flushed in anger.

"You're fools to laugh at the escort of the Girl of Prophecy!" she shouted, enraged. "You'd best enjoy your laughter now, you dolts, for you'll soon find yourselves without heads for your impertinence! The Emperor will see to it that you are punished for driving away the Girl of Legend!!"

Stallkeepers and passersby stopped to listen to the tirade being directed at the Imperial Guard. One of the guards scowled unpleasantly at the girl's threats. "Run back to your village, little bitch, and play with your dolls! We have better things to do than listen to your ignorant bumpkin ravings."

At that, the normally quiet Makoto leaped forward. "_Teme!_" he hissed. "You will take that back, you bastard!"

At that, one of the guards moved towards the young man, intending to cuff him, but Joss jumped up and pushed Makoto out of the way of the man's fist. She ducked under his fist, letting his momentum carry him forward, then hooked one foot around his while dropping her center in her best kung-fu move. The guard crashed to the ground, while Joss swiftly grabbed his sword and held it steadily at his throat. "Now let's all try to calm down here and act like civilized human beings, all right?" she pleaded. But the other guard had already turned and run a short way up the hill, shouting for back-up.

"Shit!" muttered Joss, still covering the first guard.

Sachiko, however, broke away from Ruiko's grip and began shouting at the crowd that was gathering around the troublemakers. "Do you see, people of Eiyou? Here we have brought the Girl From Another World, with her Miraculous Otherworldly Fighting Skills, to present her to the Emperor – and these ignorant guards dare to attack her! Even as Kutou threatens your homes and businesses, the Imperial Guard will not even let your savior _near_ the Emperor!"

"She's right!" shouted a portly butcher. "I'm stuck paying exorbitant prices for hogs, because Kutou soldiers ransacked the pig farms who sell to me, and the Emperor won't even hear what this strange girl has to say!" Other voices began to be raised in angry complaints over the hardships imposed by the aggressive acts of the Kutou empire.

"Oh, for the love of Mike!" groaned Joss. "Here," she grabbed Yoshio and handed him the sword, showing him how to hold it at the guard's throat, "try not to move it around, okay?" Yoshio was pale and shaking, as was the guard, nervously watching the vibrating tip of his weapon as it hovered above him.

"Listen, folks!" shouted Joss, trying to get the muttering crowd's attention. But the back-up guard arrived, bristling with weapons and armor – and the riot was touched off.

Shopkeepers and passersby waved clubs, knives, and even produce, alternately demanding that the guard back off or come forward and escort the Girl of Prophecy to the emperor. The Imperial Guard stood confused, pointing their weapons at the milling crowd but unwilling to use them on the worthy citizens of Eiyou.

The Captain of the Guard came galloping up and took in the situation at a glance. "Hold your fire!" he shouted at the bowmen. He turned to the frontline guard at the gates. "Cross your spears and let no one enter--but do not attack anyone! Hold your shields up if they begin throwing things, but you may not attack except under my personal order!"

Manuevering his horse to the gate, he shouted for silence. There was a brief lull in the crowd's angry protests that allowed his voice to be heard.

"Let me see this Girl of Legend," he demanded. Several hands shoved Joss forward so that she stumbled into his line of vision. He took in her strange clothes and odd hair, and even her defiant stance. "Very well; I will take her up to meet with the Emperor immediately."

"Wait," cautioned Sachiko shrewdly, "why should we trust you? How do we know that you're not just going to throw her into prison--or worse!"

The crowd started muttering angrily again. "Yes, why should we believe him? "

The Captain sighed. "I cannot allow all of you in here. What proof do you demand?"

"The Emperor!" shouted the irrepressible Sachiko. "We demand to hear from the Emperor himself!" The crowd took up her cry, shouting for the Emperor to make an appearance.

The Captain frowned in aggravation, but he knew that he must appease this crowd or face disastrous consequences. "Very well!" he shouted. "I will take your request to the Emperor, but in return, I demand your patience and your respect of the sanctity of the Palace grounds. You will stand and wait here quietly – or feel the arrows of the Imperial guard!" The crowd muttered in excitement and apprehension as they watched the Captain ride off towards the Palace.

"So much for delicacy and diplomacy," sighed Joss, as she and Ruiko frowned at their young rabble-rousing friend.

Sachiko smirked unrepentantly. "Well, we got what we wanted, didn't we? We're going to see the Emperor!"

****

Saihitei Seishuku, Fourth Emperor of Konan in the Seishuku Dynasty, sat at the head of the council table with his fingers steepled together, his perfect brow furrowed in apparent deep thought. The Minister of Commerce droned on about bushels of rice produced last year, projections for the coming year, and the expected profits and shortfalls for the next five years. The young emperor appeared absorbed in the minutiae of his country's commercial interests, but in truth, his thoughts were miles away. He mentally reviewed the entire sixty-four count kata for his sword practice, decided on the menus for his breakfasts for the next two weeks, pondered the possibility of slipping away from his personal guards in the garden long enough to climb a tree and peek out at the city… and _still_ the insufferable man droned on! Dear Gods, would he _never_ shut up? Saihitei drew a deep, silent breath, bringing his temper back under control by calculating the number of bean cakes he could stuff into the Minister's over-wide mouth to choke off his interminably boring speech.

Just as he was picturing himself disposing of the entire council in one bloody yet artistic burst of consummate swordplay, the doors to the council chamber burst open, and the Captain of the Guard strode in. Saihitei could have kissed the man in gratitude, but instead merely looked up and said mildly, "May I help you, Captain?"

The Captain made a crisp military bow. "A thousand pardons, Heika, but I felt it necessary to inform you that we have a riot occurring at the Palace gates – and the crowd is demanding to speak with you in person!"

The ministers and advisors grumbled in outrage. "How dare they make demands on the Emperor? How dare they riot at the gates?"

Saihitei firmly repressed the urge to get up from his chair and dance for joy. At last! Excitement, danger, _intrigue!_…and he might even get to go down to the gates and take a good look at the outside world. But as Emperor, he was supposed to be more circumspect, so he controlled his voice as he inquired about the cause of the riot.

"It seems that a foreign woman is with them, and the crowd believes her to be the Girl of Legend. They became incensed when the guards at the gate turned her away."

Saihitei's heart leapt up, knocking almost painfully against his chest. Could this be true? Could the Priestess of Suzaku be here at last? Gods, he had waited so _long_ to be released from his tedious existence! Now he could embark on the exciting quest to assemble the seven celestial warriors of Suzaku, and perhaps…perhaps he would never have to be lonely again.

"This is ridiculous!" cried the Minister of Defense. "Fire upon the rioters immediately, Captain!" He suddenly quailed under the fierce glare from the dark golden eyes of his emperor.

Saihitei brought his temper back under control with an effort. "My soldiers shall never be allowed to fire upon my own people," Saihitei rebuked in a deceptively mild tone. "Surely you know that, Minister." The Minister of Defense gulped and nodded. "Please have my palanquin brought around immediately. I am going down to the gates – to fetch the Girl of Legend."

****

Joss paced nervously before the gates of the Imperial Palace, trying to think of the proper form of apology to offer to a head of state for inciting a riot in front of his home. The quiet murmurs of the rioters suddenly rose in pitch and volume, and a current of excitement passed through the crowd. Joss looked up to see an ornate golden palanquin approach at a stately pace, surrounded by heavily armed guards who glared suspiciously at the rabble outside the gates. The palanquin was lowered gently to the ground, the curtains parted, and a tall, slender figure stepped gracefully into view.

The figure was clad in an exquisitely tailored outfit of white silk, with white fur lining the collar and cuffs, yet the elegant clothes faded into insignificance next to the breathtaking beauty of the person wearing it. At first, Josselin thought this must be one of the young princesses, the long chestnut hair tinted with gold falling past her waist, caught in a loose ponytail. But then she realized that the outfit was a man's, as were the broadening shoulders on the youth. His eyes were dark gold, almond-shaped and as thickly lashed as a girl's, but his mouth was firm and his chin strong. He looked to be about the same age as Sachiko or Makoto, but he had none of the usual awkwardness of adolescence. He probably would attain a few more inches in height in the years to come, yet he moved easily and gracefully in his still-growing body.

Joss realized that she was gaping at the youth in a particularly stupid manner, so she closed her mouth and cleared her throat, determined to be polite to this young prince. However, the people around her dropped down into low crouching bows, placing their foreheads on the ground.

Ruiko grasped Joss' arm. "Bow to the Emperor, Joss-san!" she whispered urgently.

The young woman choked. This youth, this child--_he_ was the Emperor? Oh, dear Suzaku, how could she expect a mere child to help her? She may as well have stuck with Sachiko and company, and saved herself a trip! Her disappointment flashed briefly through her eyes before she had the wits to hide her expression in a deep bow.

Saihitei frowned at the woman bowing before the gates. Was that disappointment in her face when she looked at him? He bristled slightly, unused to seeing anything other than abject admiration in the eyes of his subjects. However, his sense of humor won out, and he found himself amused at her thoughtless nonverbal insult. Saihitei was intelligent enough to recognize his own vanity and witty enough to laugh at himself at times.

"Rise, please," he commanded his subjects in his velvet voice, pleasingly pitched in the middle range of youth. The people shuffled to their feet, eyes downcast in confusion; they hadn't really expected the Emperor himself to answer their demands, and now they were embarrassed to have imposed upon him while he still wore the mourning clothes for his mother. But their Emperor did not seem angry with them.

"So," he paused expectantly, glancing hopefully at the furiously blushing countenance of Sachiko, "where is the Girl of Legend who wishes to speak with me?"

To his shock, the woman with the short hair who had looked at him so critically stepped forward. Dear Suzaku, was this _her?_ This…this…this _person_ who looked to be in her mid-twenties, nearly past marriageable age? This was no Girl of Legend; she was more like the Middle-Aged Spinster of Legend! Surely Suzaku could not be so cruel!

Saihitei fought to keep from choking out loud in dismay, and found himself looking into laughing brown eyes.

Joss was highly amused to find the Emperor as disappointed in her appearance as she had been in his. "Yeah," she murmured reassuringly. "A little long-in-the-tooth for the Girl of Prophecy - but I _am_ telling the truth when I say that I'm from another world."

Saihitei was startled to find himself addressed as an equal, then decided that he liked it. It was a refreshing change from the usual bowing and scraping of his everyday contacts. He was also perceptive enough to note her unusual clothes and hair and the honest expression on her face. No, she was not what he had expected--but she might be just the person he needed to alleviate his endless boredom, anyway.

"My Lady," he said politely, "may I invite you into my home?" He could tell that she was charmed by his exquisite manners.

"I would be honored," she replied, equally polite. "But may I beg your hospitality for my friends as well as myself?"

He looked in surprise at the people who bowed politely to him again: the peasant girl he had first mistaken for the Girl of Legend, two slightly older peasant boys, and an elegant woman clad in the robes of a village miko.

"I consider your friends to be my honored guests," Saihitei replied in all honesty, then turned towards his palanquin to hide his sudden expression of glee. Oh, this was going to be _fun_--and he couldn't remember the last time he felt this way!

****

Meanwhile, two dusty travelers paused on the road to the Imperial City, dropping down into the shade of a willow tree on the banks of a small creek.

The Doctor sighed wearily. "I don't think I've ever spent so much time on horseback before. I believe that my saddle sores have saddle sores! I should have thought to ask Taiitsukun to borrow the use of the flying carpet for a few extra days."

Houjun laughed easily. Unlike the Doctor, he actively enjoyed traveling; for him, wandering through the countryside was like a dream come true. In spite of the tragedies still haunting him, he remembered that his idea of heaven was the path he now trod: being an itinerant wanderer on an undefined quest, sharing the company of a close friend.

"I hate to disillusion you, Doctor, but it is unlikely that Taiitsukun would have fulfilled any more of your requests after your blatant provocation. Unless she gave you the flying carpet where you didn't particularly want it!"

The Doctor laughed merrily, enjoying his companion's high spirits. It was about time that young Houjun enjoyed life for a while. He glanced at the young man's face, still slightly startled to see two mahogany eyes shining happily from his unmarred visage. It was obvious that Houjun had no idea of how beautiful he was--yet the Doctor preferred his actual unmasked features. The scarred visage had more strength and character than this innocent, unmarked face. However, he was hardly one to judge, being unable to choose his own face from life-to-life. This most recent version provoked positive responses from both men and women for some unknown reason, yet was no more an indicator of the complexity of his inner self than Houjun's mask.

But now that he was thinking about appearances, it was time he took a few steps to ensure that their mission fell in with Suzaku's plan--which meant altering Houjun's appearance yet again, just enough so that he would not have any distinctive, memorable features. The Doctor gazed at the fine silvery-blue hair and sighed. Yes, it was beautiful...and far too noticeable.

"Houjun," he said gently, receiving a brilliant smile in reply. "We need to change your appearance a bit more, so that Magus will not be able to find you by spoken description. Do you, by any chance, have the ability to alter the color of your hair?"

"Yes, I think that it would be a fairly easy spell, being that the change is less than skin-deep. It's the deeper changes that are harder to maintain." Houjun self-consciously touched his hand to the left side of his mask.

The Doctor frowned in irritation. Damn this necessity of always having to remind the boy of his scars! Would that he could have at least _some_ time for happiness without being forced to face the pain of his past--but that was not the path laid out for him by his god. The life of a celestial warrior was never easy; that was what this entire mission was about, after all. From what the Doctor could tell, Suzaku was more compassionate than the other seikun--but he still intended to have a word with the phoenix-god when this whole thing was over.

The Doctor was surprised by the strength of his feelings for the youth. He'd recently tried to keep a certain distance between himself and his companions, especially after the near disaster that was his relationship with Ace. It had worked out all right in the end, but he had hurt her badly, and he never wanted to do that to another fragile young human again. On the other hand, he was no longer the same manipulative personality that he had been in his seventh incarnation, was he?

...was he?

"Doctor?" Houjun's voice was filled with concern at the bleakness of the Doctor's expression. "Is the danger from Magus so close? Is that what you're worried about?"

"No, no, no." The Doctor pulled himself back to the present, assuming his usual cheerful persona. "I'm just being my over-cautious self. So which way should we go? Dark--or light?"

Houjun murmured a brief spell, and suddenly the silvery-blue locks turned bright gold. The Doctor stared in admiration but realized that the light hair was not different enough from his usual pale color. "Let's try dark, shall we?"

Another spell, and suddenly the golden locks turned a rich dark brown, the bangs trailing dramatically over Houjun's mystical face. The change was startling: the hair drawing attention away from Houjun's eyes and hardening his jawline, making him appear somewhat older.

"Perfect!" applauded the Doctor. "Just a little change, but with significant effect! How do you feel about it, Houjun?"

The young magician shrugged nonchalantly. "As often as I change my face, this is hardly startling to me, Doctor. After all, it's only hair."

The Doctor laughed. "Spoken like a true man! I can't tell you how many times I've been raked over the coals by my female companions for making the same comment." He stretched and looked at the position of the sun in the sky, then, sighing disconsolately, got back to his feet. "Well, if we want to make it to Eiyou in the next two or three days, we had better get back in the saddle again." He groaned at the terminology. "Oh, my aching back...side." He was seized by a sudden inspiration. "My young magical friend, have you ever thought about conjuring up anything like a padded saddle?"

****

Saihitei smiled in contentment as he sat listening to his advisors in the throne room. It had been the most enjoyable three days of his young life. The palace was filled with the exuberant shouts of his new young friends, making him realize how much he missed the sound of children playing. His own younger brother and sisters had long been "relocated" to the "more suitable" palace in the far South of Konan by his mother's command, and he just now realized how much he had missed the sound of their childish laughter echoing through the stately corridors. Of course, his mother had never allowed him to join in their play--she kept a firm distance between him and "those brats who would take his place"--but he'd sometimes sneaked envious peeks at their games and let himself daydream that one day, he would join in…

But now his mother was gone, and however much he grieved for her in private, he couldn't help being secretly glad that she wasn't here to put a stop to his current adventure. No, the Dowager Empress was probably spinning in her stately tomb at the thought of peasants running amok through the elegant halls of her home, but--let her spin! He was having the time of his life!

He enjoyed speaking with the surprisingly cultured Lady Ruiko, unconsciously accepting her kind motherliness as balm to his grieving heart. As for the Lady Joss; she might be older, but she was at times even wilder than the young teens! She regaled him with amusing anecdotes of her world and treated him with the warm familiarity of an older sister.

The only disappointment was her insistence that she was not the Priestess of Suzaku, a claim borne out by the High Priest in the Temple of Suzaku. Soon after her arrival, the priest had posed the question of her identity to the Oracle with many prayers and the burning of much sacred incense--only to receive a blistering scolding from Taiitsukun, shouting that _No_, the Priestess of Suzaku was _not_ currently wandering through their world and would he kindly refrain from annoying her with stupid questions again! The High Priest had been forced to take to his bed for the next twenty-four hours after that traumatic encounter.

Lady Joss had soothed the emperor's disappointment with the cheerful assurance that although this wasn't the time for him to take off on the quest to find the seven celestial warriors, it did give him something to look forward to in the future. They were just in the planning stages of how to find her missing friends when he'd been forced to attend to his Imperial duties. But this time, he didn't chafe at his bonds, knowing that he now had something to look forward to when his official day drew to an end.

These pleasant musings were interrupted when one of the richly dressed advisors rushed into the throne room bearing a tiny scroll. "Heika! We've just received a message by falcon from the Kutou emperor! He requests that since the foreign woman has been determined not to be the Priestess of Suzaku, that she be sent to the Imperial Court in Kutou so that he may speak with her."

"Damn!" the young emperor cursed. "Hell and damnation, may his rotten soul burn in the depths of the seven hells for all eternity!"

"Heika!" Lord Ashida, his most trusted advisor, leaned over and rebuked the boy quietly. "You must not give way to public displays of frustration and open insults to the Kutou Emperor."

"I know, Ashida-sama, but it is the most damnable thing that he should know my every move almost before I make it! The palace must be infiltrated with Kutou spies from top to bottom, and I am sick of having to conduct affairs of state under these conditions!"

One of his mother's old advisors stepped forward, his predatory eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Heika, if you would permit me, I would be very pleased to eradicate all of the servants and replace them with my own carefully screened people."

"No, thank you, Kato-sama." Saihitei repressed a shudder of revulsion. He had a fair idea of what Lord Kato meant by "eradicate" and if the innocent were to be executed along with the guilty...well, that was just a regrettable but necessary side-effect. He remembered the often ruthless practices of his mother, the Dowager Empress, and although her stratagems had brought him safely to the throne, he couldn't bring himself to adopt her ways. However, one of her oft-repeated adages echoed in his mind as he regarded the twisted sneer on Lord Kato's lips. "Trust no one," she had repeated to him time and again…and he certainly did not intend to trust Kato and permit him to fill his palace staff with "his own people."

Saihitei sighed and adopted the gentle, humble demeanor that served to trick many opponents into underestimating him. "My apologies, Lord Kato; I do not mean to denigrate your ideas. It was my fault for speaking out of turn. After all, the palace is not the only source of news about Joss-sama. If I've heard correctly, nearly the entire city is gossiping about the Girl from Another World."

"Quite true," interjected Lord Ashida, smoothly covering for his charge's outburst. "Joss-sama did not exactly arrive quietly, and her young escorts have been trumpeting their triumph at having located the Girl of Prophecy to all who will listen to their tale of valor." The senior advisor's eyes crinkled up in amusement.

Kato was not amused. "Those unmitigated peasant brats!" he hissed. "I know how to silence them!"

"You will recall, Kato-sama, that those _brats_ as you call them, are my honored guests." The voice remained velvety, but Kato swallowed hard at the steel revealed beneath the soft tones.

"Y-yes, Heika! My apologies, Heika." Kato bowed deeply, finally cognizant of how much the son could resemble the mother.

"It is no matter." The boy-emperor waved an elegant hand in dismissal. "You may leave now, Lord Kato."

The councillor bowed once more, then quickly strode out of the throne room, trying not to break into a run. Saihitei nodded at the rest of the advisors and they, too, took their leave. Finally, only Lord Ashida remained in the throne room.

Lord Ashida grinned at the youth. "Very well done, Heika--very smoothly done, if I may be so bold as to commend you."

Saihitei sighed. "Thank you, Ashida-sama. Unfortunately, I let my control slip upon hearing the message from Kutou. I find it difficult to deal with our neighboring country when the head of state is such a slimy, lecherous beast." His eyes darkened in memory. "I'll not soon forget our Imperial diplomatic mission last year. Not only was he disrespectful of my position as a fellow head-of-state, refusing to deal with any of our diplomatic requests, but the way he let his eyes wander over me! I have no doubt that were I a peasant boy or even a lesser noble, there would be no part of my person left inviolate."

Lord Ashida shook his head. It was unfortunate that Saihitei should have to be worldly-wise at such a young age, but his youth was disadvantage enough. Add naivete to that youth, and Ashida would soon find himself serving a new emperor, if he were left alive to serve anyone at all.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, Heika, your reaction is understandable, if not strategically advisable. But as you can see, we are in a difficult situation. Now that it is known that Lady Joss is _not_ the Priestess of Suzaku, our refusal to hand her over to Kutou to determine if she is the Priestess of Seiryuu would be a diplomatic insult of the highest order."

Saihitei's dark golden eyes blazed. "Then let them be insulted! I will not hand her over to that beast for his perverse pleasures! If he means to declare war on us for this, then so be it!"

The old councillor sighed deeply. "Heika, it is no small thing to go to war. Kutou's army is powerful and ruthless, and most of our people would die under their relentless swords."

"So what do you suggest that I do? Hand that poor woman over to them to do with as they will? You do not know me at all if you think that I will ever agree to that!"

"No, Heika, that is not what I am advising you to do. In fact, I must admit to a feeling of pride in your refusal to yield her up to Kutou. There is a solution to our problems--but it is not an easy solution, for you or for Lady Josselin."

Saihitei leaned forward eagerly. "So there is a way to save both my people and Lady Joss? Tell me! No sacrifice is too great if I can save them both."

Lord Ashida took a deep breath. "You must marry the Lady Josselin. If she becomes your senior wife, you are well within your rights to refuse to send her to Kutou."

All the color drained out of the boy's face. "_Marry _her?" he squeaked, his adolescent voice cracking up into its high registers. "I thought…it's too soon for me to choose an empress; you said so yourself!"

"No, she would not become Empress; although Joss-sama is a fine lady from another world, she lacks the noble lineage that the future Empress is required to possess. But it's not uncommon for royalty to choose a, shall we say, _older_ wife to supervise the household and the younger concubines until the Empress arrives to take over that role."

Saihitei looked up hopefully. "So it would be a marriage in name only?"

The councillor sighed again. "I'm afraid that Kutou is unlikely to accept such a marriage. They will require sworn statements by official witnesses that you have…ah…taken her virginity."

The boy emperor looked as if he were about to become very ill. His trusted advisor frowned in concern. "But, Heika, I thought you _liked_ the Lady Joss."

A trembling voice. "I do--as a friend! But as a wife? She's so _old_--and not very…beautiful." Saihitei flushed at the cruel honesty of his remarks.

"Ah, but Heika, you need only, er, spend the night with her once. Then Kutou's honor will be satisfied, and Konan and Lady Joss will both remain safe for the time being." The councillor dropped his voice. "And we can see to it that the royal bedchamber is kept _very_ dark."

Saihitei straightened on his throne. "Very well. I said that I was willing to make any sacrifice, and I will not flinch away from my responsibilities now. I assume that the arrangements for the wedding must be made as soon as possible?"

Ashida-sama nodded. "We must be very swift; we can pretend that we didn't receive this message prior to the wedding, but we have at most a day."

"Proceed then, Lord Ashida." For a moment, the young boy looked out of the Emperor's eyes. "But Ashida...would _you_ mind being the one to tell Lady Joss?"

The senior advisor swallowed. "Perhaps it would be best if we informed her just before the ceremony; she will have less time to become, er, nervous."

Saihitei placed his chin in his hand. This seemed more like an ambush than a royal courtship, but Kutou was forcing all of their hands. "I yield to your wiser judgement, Lord Ashida. Let us plan the ceremony for this evening. Until then, I will keep busy receiving petitioners. Please send in the Royal Secretary."

"Oh, yes, Heika, I meant to tell you: you have two foreign petitioners who were insistent on meeting with you. There is something different about them, and I think you may do well to meet with them."

Saihitei wearily raised a hand to his brow. "They will have to wait their turn with everyone else, Lord Ashida. Tell them that I promise to meet with them, all in good time."

****

Joss stepped out of the Imperial bath, attended by a plethora of servant girls. She felt weird having so many girls waiting on her hand and foot, and the increased whispers and giggles from the group did nothing for her self-esteem. "Yeah," she muttered to herself, "not quite enough on top and a little too much extra on bottom--but hey, I never asked to be on public display. And what's with all the fuss, anyway?" She decided to try to get an answer out of one of the giggling, bowing girls. "Hey, what's this all about? What kind of ceremony do I need the whole manicure-pedicure thingy for?" The girl just burst into more giggles and rushed off. Joss shook her head. "Well, I guess if they were rocket scientists, they wouldn't be working as bath attendants. Gah! I'd better find Ruiko-sama, just so that I can get in some intelligent conversation sometime today."

However, the bath attendants refused to release her. They dried her hair carefully, frowning at its short length and unruly waves. Finally they satisfied themselves with draping her in silk undergarments and diaphanous underdresses, finally finishing up with overlayers of exquisite silk robes.

Joss shifted her shoulders irritably under the weight of multiple layers of clothing. "Must be some hoity-toity welcoming ceremony, lots of bowing and scraping and droning speeches. Ah, well, the least I can do is go along with it since the kid emperor is being so nice."

The cosmetics girl stepped away from her delicate manipulations of paints, powders, and brushes, and presented Joss with a hand mirror. Joss stared at her reflection in shock. The girl had worked a kind of magic on her face, downplaying her strong nose and bringing out the slant of her eyes and the fullness of her lips, using blush to shadow and emphasize her high cheekbones. Joss let out a soft, admiring whistle. "Well, look at me: I'm a veritable Asian princess! Guess I clean up okay, huh?" The girl smiled and bowed, not grasping the terminology but understanding that the Lady was pleased with her artistic efforts.

Two other girls approached, bearing an elaborate glittering headdress. "Now wait a minute!" exclaimed their difficult charge, but they placed the headdress on her head despite her protests. Joss peered out from a curtain of tiny glittering crystal and gold beads that hung in front of her face like a sparkling veil. "Hmph! I'll be lucky if I don't trip and break my neck; this damn thing completely cuts off all peripheral vision!" But she remembered her resolve to humor Saihitei's whims, so if the boy wanted her to look like a gypsy fortuneteller's lamp, so be it.

Her personal attendants finally released her, allowing her to step into the corridor. To Joss' relief, she spotted Ruiko-sama approaching her, trailed by the awed and silenced trio of troublemakers. All four were elaborately bedecked in fine silk clothes and had adopted attitudes of solemnity befitting their noble wardrobe. Ruiko-sama, however, bore a troubled expression on her normally serene features. Joss frowned in concern, then realized that Ruiko could not read her expression behind her portable beaded curtain.

"Ruiko-sama, is everything okay with you?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question, Joss-sama. I'm sorry, I should have said 'Heika.'"

"Heika? What are you talking about? I'm not Heika; that's Saihitei! Speaking of which, what's with all this hoo-hah? What kind of ceremony are we going to, anyway?"

The miko's eyes widened in shock. "Do you mean that you don't know, Joss-sama? Didn't they tell you?"

A growly grumble. "Nobody tells me squat around here; all they do is toss me in the bath, then dress me in lampshades."

Ruiko grasped her friend's arm and drew her aside, whispering to her urgently.

An outraged shriek echoed through the corridor, rattling the glass oil lamps in their sconces.

"What?"

****

Saihitei straightened on his throne, surreptitiously shifting his weight to get some of the kinks out of his back. He really should be back in his rooms preparing for the wedding, but he had just the one last pair of petitioners to deal with. Because he was essentially an honest boy, he admitted silently to himself that perhaps he was putting off the inevitable for as long as possible; it was easier to deal with any number of petitioners rather than the Lady Joss.

He looked around the throne room, now mercifully empty except for Lord Ashida, the Royal Secretary Sumisu-san, the royal guards, and the two turbaned and veiled men. Saihitei frowned; it was unlike the Kel Tagelmust to petition anyone for anything. They were a fiercely proud and independent people, choosing to eke out a meager existence in the desert rather than be subjected to the whims of any emperor. Lord Ashida had been right: they were an intriguing pair.

"You may come forward." Saihitei was pleased with his smooth, velvet tones, unmarred by the embarrassing adolescent squeaks that sometimes appeared when he was under pressure. The men approached and bowed. "What may I do for you?" Saihitei inquired with his famous courtesy.

One of the men stepped forward and unhooked his face veil, a gesture of almost unprecedented openness. Blue eyes smiled at Saihitei from a strong and handsome face. Saihitei couldn't help smiling back; he'd always appreciated beauty in all its forms, and although there was nothing in this man's face of the fragile, feminine type of beauty that was his preference, he could see the strong masculine attractiveness in the stranger's features. For some unknown reason, he was suddenly seized by the feeling that he could trust this man.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is my friend Ri-san," the man replied politely. "As for what you can do for us, it's more of a question of what we can do for you, Heika." The man's voice was as velvety as his own, but with strangely clipped syllables in the foreign accent. Saihitei leaned forward to catch what the man was saying, when suddenly the throne room door banged open like the crack of doom.

"Saihi_tei!_ What the _hell_ is going on here?" A short, elaborately dressed female figure strode furiously up the throne room aisle, tripping every so often on the carpet edges and brushing at a veil of beads that hung in front of her eyes from a complicated headdress.

The Doctor drew aside to let her pass. Although she had interrupted his carefully planned speech, he couldn't help grinning in amusement at the situation. He leaned towards his enigmatic companion. "Looks like someone is in the muck now!" he whispered gleefully.

The boy emperor was obviously fighting the impulse to bolt from his throne. Luckily, valor won out, since running would probably do him no good against his enraged opponent, who looked ready to chase him around the throne room if need be. He cleared his throat and attempted to achieve his usual velvet tones. "Lady Joss, what seems to be the problem?" In spite of his best efforts, the question ended in a squeak.

"Don't you give me that innocent face! What the hell do you mean, marriage? You're just a damn kid! You know, where I come from, I could be sent to prison for _ten years_ for even considering such a perverted act! Or at least get myself on trashy talk shows for life: Twenty-something Lecherous Loser Marries Kid Who Just Reached Puberty Last _Month!"_ She stomped up to the throne, jabbing her finger at the emperor in rage. "Don't you _get_ it? You're younger than my baby brother, for God's sake! So you'd better get over this stupid crush on me, and you'd better do it NOW!"

The smile left the Doctor's face at her mention of talk shows. "Now wait a minute," he murmured to himself, frowning and stroking his lip.

Lord Ashida stepped in, realizing the disaster he had precipitated by failing to inform the Lady Joss of their plans in a timely manner. "Lady Josselin, please calm yourself; you are upsetting the Imperial Guard." True to his word, the guards had their hands on their sword hilts, nervously eyeing the woman's aggressive moves towards their emperor.

"Well, you can tell them to stand down! I'm not gonna hurt the emperor--though I gotta tell ya, the urge to turn him over my knee and spank him is very strong right now!"

Saihitei looked alarmed at the threat. "Lady Joss, I never meant to…crush you, did you say?"

Lord Ashida decided to take control of the escalating situation. "That will be enough, Lady Josselin!" His voice cracked like a whip through the throne room. He was rewarded with a brief spell of silence. "You should not act so precipitately towards His Highness when he was merely attempting to save your life! It is my fault that I did not inform you sooner, but the Imperial Court in Kutou has demanded that we turn you over to them at once. The only way we can avoid being forced into doing so is if you become one of Emperor Saihitei's wives."

The woman stood still for a moment, obviously stunned, but regained her wits quickly. "Okay, fine, I owe you an apology, Sai. Sorry for flying off the handle like that. But listen, this is no way gonna work. I'm not marrying you, not even in name only. Can't you just tell the mopes in Kutou that I'm one of your wives without us going through some phony ceremony?"

Saihitei turned pale once again and sent an appealing glance at Lord Ashida.

The elder councillor sighed and braced himself for the oncoming explosion. "Lady Josselin," he began hesitantly, "this cannot be a ceremony in name only, nor can it be a false ceremony. Kutou will require proof from independent official witnesses that the Emperor has…that you have…that you have graced him with…" his voice became very soft. "…your virginity."

There was a moment of silence, and then…

"What in the SEVEN _HELLS _are you perverts _talking_ ABOUT?" Josselin's voice was an outraged howl. "There's no _waaay!_" Her rage propelled her away from the throne, around the two figures standing off to one side, whose heads swiveled to watch her as she stormed past them. "I got news for you guys!" she screamed, whirling around to face the throne once again. "It ain't gonna happen, because for one thing, I'M NOT A VIRGIN!" she shouted straight into the veiled face of one of the two turbaned men.

Mahogany eyes went wide, and a brilliant flush crossed over the bridge of his nose, which was all she could see of his face. His embarrassment silenced her when she realized what she had just screamed at him.

Meanwhile, the Imperial Court was in consternation. "Who has done this terrible thing to you, Lady Joss?" Lord Ashida was horrified. "Just name the culprit and we will avenge your honor at once!"

But Joss had turned to stare at the other turbaned man whose blue eyes danced in amusement. "Well, thank you for sharing that extremely private but hardly unique piece of personal information with us," he chided softly under his breath. Joss' reaction was much more audible when she recognized him.

"Doctor!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. The smile on his face was replaced with a look of shock. The court erupted into pandemonium, as the guards rushed in on Lord Ashida's command to seize the Doctor and his companion.

Joss was pushed to one side, and she pushed back frantically, trying to make her voice heard above the clash of armor and the shouts of the men. "No,wait! I didn't mean that he--" Running forward and trying to get the beads out of her face, Joss tripped over the carpet runner and crashed to the floor, smacking her head against the tiles. Saihitei bolted from his throne to the side of the now quiet and still figure.

"Let go of me, you idiots!" shouted the Doctor, struggling to get to her. "I'm a doctor, for pity's sake!"

The emperor nodded at his guard, and they released the man. The Doctor knelt beside Josselin, his quiet companion hovering anxiously at his side. He gently removed the ornate headdress, then carefully felt around her neck and pulled open her eyelids to peer into her eyes. Taking off his turban, he folded the cloth into a flat pillow and placed it gently beneath her head. "She's going to be all right. Possibly a mild concussion...we must be sure to get her up and moving around as soon as she shows the first sign of consciousness."

"I will see to it, Doctor." The emperor's tones were once more smooth and velvety. "However, I'm afraid that I must keep both of you here as my…guests, until the Lady Josselin recovers and clarifies her accusation against you."

The Doctor sighed wearily, glancing one last time at the face of the young woman as he rose to his feet. "At the risk of sounding like the worst kind of cad, may I say that I have never seen this woman before in my life?"

"Well, Doctor, she certainly seems to know you. And until she awakens, I must take her word over yours. In the time that I have known Lady Joss, I've never known her to lie." Saihitei felt that it wasn't necessary to tell the strangers that he had only known Joss for three days. Nodding at his Imperial guard, he dismissed them. They bowed with military precision, then marched out of the throne room, escorting their two prisoners to the lower levels of the palace--to the Imperial dungeons.

****

Someone was being very annoying. Someone was pounding relentlessly on a drum in a monotonous rhythm, never varying the tempo although they altered the dynamics at irritatingly uneven intervals – boom, BOOM, boom, boom, BOOM, boom! Someone was about to get themselves dealt a nice knuckle sandwich if they didn't move the damn drum further away from her head! Boom, BOOM, boom, BOOM, boom.

All right, enough was enough! Now it was time to put the Fear of Joss into whatever idiot was doing percussion performance art next to her bed. Her eyes snapped open as she sat upright: two fatal mistakes at the same time. She tried to yell "Gyaah" but it came out more like "Grr-blurbl-gak!" as she fought to keep from tossing her cookies at the wave of nausea that swept over her. A cool, damp cloth was pressed against the back of her neck, while a slender arm kept her from pitching forward onto her face. Slowly the nausea receded, and the drummer retreated to a bearable distance. Joss drew a few deep trembling breaths, then slowly opened her eyes again. At first, she could only see indistinct blurs of light and shadow, but they soon resolved into the drawn, worried features of Ruiko-sama.

"Ru-iko...sa-ma?" she croaked.

The miko shook her head. "Try not to talk, Joss-sama, nor should you make any sudden moves. Your strength will return shortly, but until then, you must be patient." She gently pushed Joss back against a pile of silken cushions.

Ruiko rose and turned to consult with a serious, soberly dressed male figure that stood near the door. He exchanged a few words with her in a low voice before approaching Joss. He checked her pulse and listened to her heart, then peered into her eyes. At his soft request, she tracked the movements of his fingers with her eyes. The court physician smiled in satisfaction. "You must drink all of the herbal draughts that I send to you, then begin to move slowly around the room. Please do not push yourself, Lady Josselin; I would prefer if you did not leave your bedchamber for the next day."

After a while, Joss felt good enough to swing her legs to the floor and walk slowly around the room with the support of Ruiko's arm. With every step, she began to feel more like herself. At her request, Ruiko assisted her to her bath chamber.

Joss walked over to the basin to splash some water into her face – then stared in shock at the battered-looking visage that stared back at her from the wall mirror. The make-up had been washed from her face, leaving her skin clean and clear to showcase an impressive black eye shining forth in all its rainbow glory. "Geez," she whistled in a mixture of admiration and horror, as fragmented memories of her accident began playing through her brain. She flashed a cocky grin at Ruiko's reflection. "Well, you should see the other guy. I bet that tile floor is gonna tremble in fear the next time_ I_ make an appearance in the throne room!"

Ruiko misinterpreted her joke. "The other guy… oh, yes, he and his friend are safely locked away in the Imperial dungeons awaiting the Emperor's judgment."

"What are you talking about?" Suddenly, the last of Joss' fragmented memories clicked into place. "Oh, _SHIT!"_ resounded through the chamber and echoed down the corridor beyond.

****

"Thirty-seven," murmured a velvet voice. "Odd, wouldn't you say? Thirty-seven bars in front of this cell. I could almost attribute the number to human error, but there are also thirty-seven bars in front of each of the cells across the way. Makes one ponder the significance of placing a prime number of bars on each cell. Some sort of mathematical riddle, do you suppose?"

Houjun looked up from twisting his dark hair back into its customary ponytail, his turban and veil resting on the simple bench next to him. He flashed an uncertain smile at his fellow prisoner as he pushed his trailing bangs out of his eyes. "And the prize for solving the riddle? Instant pardon and immediate release?"

The Doctor paused in his pacing. "Perhaps." A deep sigh. "As frequently as I find myself in situations of involuntary incarceration, you'd think I would become accustomed to the tedium inherent in these circumstances, yet the sense of confinement never ceases to rankle."

"So this happens to you often: being unjustly imprisoned?"

"Oh, yes! I almost get nervous if I don't end up behind bars at regular intervals. However, I must admit this is the first time that I've ever been imprisoned on this particular charge!" The Doctor shook his head. "I suppose that at my age, one should appreciate all the 'firsts' that one has left to encounter, but somehow, I think that given the choice, I would have happily bypassed this precise experience."

"Naturally. To your list of experiences to be avoided, please add public humiliation, possible flogging, and Imperial execution."

The Doctor laughed. "Ah, my young friend, I can see that incarceration brings out your sarcastic side. Well, never fear, I should have us out of here in no time."

"I was about to propose the same thing. Now that our young guard has finally left us in peace, I think that we should make a clean escape."

"Yes, he was rather persistent, wasn't he?"

A patient sigh. "He might have left sooner, Doctor, if you didn't keep entertaining him with juggling and sleight-of-hand magic tricks."

The Doctor looked wounded. "Can I help it if having a captive audience brings out the busker in me?"

"Just as long as you remember who the captive audience really is. On that subject, we should be leaving."

"Just one moment…" The Doctor rummaged busily in his coat pockets. "I'll get us out of here as soon as I find my sonic screwdriver."

"Never mind, Doctor, I'll get us out of here even quicker."

"No, no, no, this won't take me a moment."

Houjun touched the Doctor's elbow. "Look up, Doctor."

The Doctor looked up and was shocked to see that they were standing in the corridor outside the cell. He cocked an eyebrow at the young magician. "Near-instantaneous spatial transmigration--and executed very smoothly, I might add. I didn't even feel us move! Extremely impressive, Houjun."

His companion blushed. "It's nothing, Doctor; just a little trick I've been able to do since childhood. Gotten me out of quite a few scrapes as a child, especially when stealing persimmons!" He flashed a grin at his mentor.

"Now you have me feeling envious. I was _always_ getting caught in the astralfruit orchard as a child."

They moved quietly up the corridor, looking anxiously around the corner for guards. The Doctor frowned at the ground as they continued on their way out of the prison. "I have the strangest feeling that we're making a mistake in leaving so soon, however. There's something about the girl who accused me that is very intriguing. For one thing, I'm fairly certain that she's not from around here. I would almost like to talk to her and find out--"

"Doctor, do you remember what they say about being careful what you wish for?" Houjun pointed ahead of them. Standing there with a look of shock written across her bruised face was the girl in question. At her side was a slender, thirtyish woman in a miko's robes, while an Imperial guard bristling with armor stood behind them. Houjun took the Doctor's elbow at the same time that the guard lunged towards them.

"No,_ wait!_"

The shout came from both the girl and the Doctor, halting everyone in their tracks. The girl took charge. "Stand down!" she barked at the guard. He frowned at her and hesitated. "Are you defying me? You forget who I am, soldier!" Her voice rapped out crisp and clear, very different from the previous casual slang that she had used in the throne room.

The Doctor placed a soothing hand on Houjun's arm, feeling the young man's muscles jump with tension. "Steady on," he soothed as the girl approached them, staring at the young magician.

"Shouryuu?" she inquired in disbelief. "Where did you get the other eye--and what did you do to your hair?!" The Doctor gripped Houjun's arm tighter, feeling the fight-or-flight response taking over.

"Doctor, she must be from Magus!" Houjun hissed, desperately trying to loosen the Doctor's grip. "Maybe she's even...Kurayami!"

"Oh now, _that_ one hurt! Don't even mention me in the same breath as that bitch! Not unless it involves me hitting her with some kind of blunt instrument." The girl placed a hand out, palm up in a gesture of peace. "Look, Doctor, Shouryuu…I know we started out on the wrong foot, but I came here to put things right. Would you mind accompanying me so that I can explain everything?"

The Doctor moved forward, still holding Houjun in an iron grip. "It seems that contrary to your previous accusation, you have the advantage of me…of both of us, actually. So it would probably be best for us to accede to your wishes." He glanced at the guard.

The girl had the grace to blush. "Ummm, sorry about that. I didn't mean to accuse you of…of… I was just surprised to see you, and I shouted your name--at exactly the wrong time, I guess--and the next thing I knew, I was waking up with this shiner and a mother of a headache."

The Doctor's gaze grew keen. "But you recognized me, while I have no idea who you are. Do we meet in my future?"

"No, not that I know of. Umm, it's a long story, so if you wouldn't mind?" She gestured towards the prison exit. The Doctor looked at her pale face and the beads of sweat at her temples, and realized that she had rushed down to the prison to see them before she was fully recovered.

"Excellent idea!" He released Houjun and took the girl's arm. "Might I impose upon you for a cup of tea?"

They exited the prison together, leaving a bemused Houjun and Ruiko to follow in their wake.

****

As they approached her rooms, Joss pretended to stumble so that the Doctor drew nearer, supporting her. "Doctor," she whispered rapidly, "I need to talk to you for a bit outside Shouryuu's hearing; will you help me out?" The Doctor nodded curtly.

"Houjun," he called out pleasantly as he settled Joss in a chair, "do you know how to make an herbal infusion to help strengthen the Lady Josselin?" Joss' eyes widened at his knowledge of her name, but then she remembered that Lord Ashida had called her by name several times in the throne room.

"Of course, Doctor, but I need to get the herbs."

Joss spoke up. "Ruiko-sama, would you mind showing him around the palace dispensary and kitchens?" The miko nodded. Both she and Houjun were aware of the fact that they were being sent out of the room deliberately, but they complied without argument, just sending troubled glances back at the Doctor and Joss.

Once the door closed, Joss turned towards the Doctor. "Doctor, I want to tell you how really,_ really _sorry I am about that mix-up earlier!"

He waved a hand, lightly dismissing his time in prison on her account. "But that's not why you needed to speak to me in private, Lady Josselin."

"Just Joss, please, Doctor. No, I needed to tell you where I come from, and I didn't want to say the wrong thing in front of Shouryuu." She took a deep breath. "You see, I come from the National Library in Tokyo--and the reason I know so much about you and Shouryuu is that I've been following your adventures in the book! You know, the Universe of the Four Gods?"

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow. "You were quite right to consult with me alone; there is much that Houjun should not know at this point in time, particularly anything to do with Suzaku's involvement in his life. Are you aware of that aspect?"

"Yes. I followed you into the reference room, so I started reading right when you were taken into the book."

"You followed me? Why?"

Joss blushed. "Well, I found all that talking-to-yourself stuff pretty intriguing, aaaaand...you're also quite the looker."

"Looker?"

"Never mind." She was completely scarlet by now, so she cast around for a change of subject. "So Shouryuu goes by the name of Houjun now?"

"I usually call him Ri-san if we are with strangers. But Houjun is actually his real name. We can't use Shouryuu because of the possible danger from Magus and company, not to mention that he dislikes the name ever since the exorcism."

Joss narrowed her eyes. "Yeah. That bitch Kurayami! If I ever get my hands on her!"

"I had conjectured that she was the one responsible, but it's always good to get independent confirmation. What about Magus?"

"It's not clear, not even in the book, Doctor. He has some sort of connection with Kurayami, but her agenda is different than his. She doesn't respect him very much, I can tell you that. I can also tell you that he was pretty desperate to hold onto Shouryuu, so he's probably spitting tacks about now."

"So how did you get here, Lady, er…Joss?"

"It was right after the exorcism." To Joss' surprise, her eyes filled with tears, and her voice thickened with grief. "He was so hurt…he was so vulnerable and fragile, and they hurt him so bad, he just wanted to die." She wiped at her face. "He went into the river, and all he saw were lies and tricks--and then he started drowning!" A sob escaped her. "I couldn't just watch him die! I demanded that Suzaku take me into the book so that I could save him, but I ended up in a different place. But even if I was useless, I don't care, because all that matters is that you got there in time. It was you who saved him, right?"

"Yes. But don't call yourself useless, Joss. You wouldn't be here unless you had a role to play. If nothing else, you've shown that you care about him, and he needs all the love he can get."

"Love?" Joss stared at the Doctor in disbelief. But he just smiled back at her, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the waves of compassion she could feel coming from this man, time lord, whatever he was. She looked at his beautiful features and felt the warmth of his presence, and thought, "I could almost fall in love with him…_almost_." But she couldn't really, because it was already too late for her. She had already given her heart to…

Her face went brilliant scarlet as she realized what she had just admitted to herself. Was she _insane?_ He was from a different universe, not to mention being several years younger than her! It was all wrong, it could _never_ work, it was the craziest thing she had ever done--so why did it feel so _right?_ She looked up shyly into blue eyes that shone with understanding.

The Doctor took pity on her self-consciousness and changed the subject. "So we need to settle on what we shall tell Houjun and your rather perceptive miko friend, not to mention the young emperor. I always find it best to stick to the truth as much as possible; it makes keeping track of things much less complicated."

"Good idea, Doctor, especially in my case. I'm kind of famous--or infamous--in my circle for being unable to speak anything but the truth as I see it. So I'll be sure to mess up a complicated lie."

"Very well. We'll keep it simple with only a few omissions: no mention of Suzaku or the book and ah, let's not say much about where I come from, either. I believe that Houjun has inklings that I'm not from around here, but he has enough on his plate for the time being."

"That's fine with me, since I'm not exactly sure where you come from, either."

The Doctor beamed at her. "So you see? The truth is always easiest!"

There was a soft knock on the door, and a servant entered bearing a steaming ceramic pot and several tiny fragile cups. She set the tray on the table and bowed low. "The Lady Ruiko sends this tea with her compliments and bids me to tell you that she and the young man will be returning as soon as the infusion is ready."

The Doctor sniffed the steaming air, then broke into a brilliant smile. "Lapsang souchong: my favorite! This is turning out to be an _excellent_ day!"

****

Ri Houjun bowed his head over his teacup and stole quick, furtive glances at the girl who was speaking so animatedly with the Doctor. He had never seen anyone like her in his life--and he wasn't sure that he liked her at all. Sending his thoughts inward, he analyzed the feelings of resentment and finally realized that what he felt was jealousy at how easily she and the Doctor related to one another. The truth was that he didn't like sharing the Doctor with anyone – and the deeper truth was that he was acting like an insecure child. He gave himself a mental shake and tried to look at Lady Joss again through eyes unclouded by jealousy.

She was a startling sight with the black eye and her cropped unruly hair; those two features, along with her blunt, unladylike way of speaking, almost gave her the look of a harlot. Nor was she beautiful; her nose was a little too large and her chin too determined to fit in with the fragile porcelain beauty prized in Konan women. But her face was open and honest, her brown eyes shining with good humor and trust… Yes, trust. He took a furtive peek at her ki--yes, he was right. She looked at life with the happy assurance of a child who had never suffered terrible pain or trauma. Her ki was golden, shining, unblemished with the shadows that darkened his own soul.

Suddenly he realized that she was looking at him as intently as he had been gazing at her. "Sorry, Houjun, didn't mean to leave you out of the conversation." She touched a finger to her bruised face self-consciously as he continued to stare at her. "Yeah, guess I'll have to pull out of the Miss Konan beauty contest now. Not that I was a top contender anyway."

Houjun flushed at the way her remarks mirrored his own recent thoughts; did she have the ability to read his mind the way that the Doctor did? No...no, that wasn't it. She'd probably just read the expression on his face as he gave her the same sort of critical regard that strangers gave his unmasked face. He was suddenly ashamed; he'd been wrong about Joss. She _could_ be hurt, the same as him – the difference was that she just lifted her chin and stared down the pain. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.

"No," he murmured softly. "I was just worried that you might be in pain. If you wouldn't mind, I might be able to help. I have a few healing powers."

"Sure!" Her reply was quick and easy. "I'm willing to give it a go if you are. Do your thing, Mister Magician!"

He was startled by her instant trust in him, but then again, if what they said was true, didn't she know more about him than anyone except the Doctor? That thought was just a little too embarrassing to deal with at the moment, so he pushed it away as he knelt beside her chair. He lifted his right hand and placed his long fingers gently around the dark contusion surrounding her left eye. She closed her eyes as he began to murmur a brief healing spell.

Joss' heart beat rapidly at the touch of Houjun's fingers on her skin. He was so close that she could feel the warm fragrance of his breath on her face. She shivered slightly, feeling the power flowing from him, controlled and held in check by his breathtaking gentleness. She flushed with emotion and hoped that he couldn't detect her sudden surge of desire.

Houjun drew back slowly, satisfied at the fading of her bruise. He met her gaze and was suddenly overwhelmed by the emotion he saw shining in her eyes. She was looking at him as if he were something…wonderful. His heart began to beat rapidly, and he felt confused; no one had looked at him like this since… But then again, that had ended up meaning nothing, _her_ feelings towards him turning out to be quite different from what he thought he had seen in her eyes, so why should this be any more real? At the same time, something in his heart told him that this _was_ different; he had no reason to doubt Joss' honesty. But _why_ did she find him wonderful?

At this breathless moment, the door to Joss' room crashed open, and three figures leaped in, bristling with armor and weaponry. Houjun turned swiftly, instinctively shielding Joss with his own body.

"Get away from her, you bastard!" shrieked a fierce--although decidedly feminine--voice from the shortest of the three. The two taller figures leaped towards Houjun, so he lifted his hand in self-defense.

"_Fusege!_" he commanded, and all three figures stood paralyzed in place.

"Oh, for God's sake!" cursed Joss in aggravation, as Ruiko and the Doctor went up to examine the frozen tableau.

"Ruiko-sama?" squeaked a high-pitched voice. At first, Joss thought it was Sachiko, but it turned out to be Yoshio, his voice raised in fear. "I think I've been struck blind!" The miko gently turned the oversized helmet so that it no longer covered his eyes, and the sturdy youth sighed in relief.

Makoto, careful as always, was twitching his arms, testing the limits of the spell, but Sachiko snarled at Houjun in rage, trying to twist out of the mystical bonds. "Don't think that you'll hold me for long, Doctor Whoever-you-are, Despoiler of Helpless Women! I'll get out of this, and then You. Will. PAY!"

"Helpless Women?" yelped Joss, offended.

The Doctor was trying to cover his laughter with a bout of coughing. He finally regained his breath and moved forward. "Actually, _I'm_ the Doctor, this is my friend Ri-san, and I'm afraid that you are quite mistaken about my intent in regards to the Lady Joss. Not to mention that you have the advantage of me."

The girl lifted her chin defiantly. "I am Sachiko, Principal Warrior of Kawagishi Village and Protector of the Girl From Another World! And these are my assistants, Yoshio and Makoto." This announcement was greeted with strangled chokes of outrage from her two male cohorts. Unfazed, the girl-warrior turned a critical eye on the Doctor. "Aren't you a bit old to go around despoiling women? I would hardly think that you would have the…inclination any more."

"I beg your pardon!" retorted the Doctor, highly offended. A muffled snort of laughter from his young companion did nothing to improve his temper.

Ruiko stepped in, her expression stern. "That will be enough, young lady!" she rapped out. "You are compounding your foolish error with unforgivable rudeness. You shall apologize to the Doctor and his companion at once!"

Sachiko's lips trembled at the reprimand, but she remained defiantly silent.

The Doctor took pity on her imminent loss-of-face. "No, don't scold them, please, Lady Ruiko. They've shown admirable courage in confronting opponents of unknown strength and powers on behalf of their friend, and even now refuse to give in although they are held fast." He addressed Sachiko with a respectful bow. "Lady Warrior of Kawagishi Village and Most Honorable Protector of the Girl From Another World, will you and your brave companions accept our humble surrender on the condition that you hear us out? There has been a regrettable error in the accusation placed against us, and we ask your clemency in allowing us to present a defense."

Sachiko gave a short but regal nod. In return, the Doctor nodded at Houjun, who breathed out "_Hanase kudasai!_" releasing the youngsters from the holding spell. Joss and Ruiko moved forward to divest the teens of their impressive array of weaponry so that they could sit comfortably.

After one-half hour and three trays of cakes and tea, an excellent understanding had been reached between all parties. The high level of good humor had reached the point of the noise overflowing into the corridor, thus obscuring the march of booted feet. Suddenly, the door to Joss' chamber slammed open, and a harsh male voice shouted, "Everyone hold, in the name of the Emperor!"

A weary velvet voice. "Oh, no, not again--Houjun?"

_"Fusege!"_

_****_

_****_

Glossary of terms:

Heika - (Japanese) Your Majesty, Your Highness

Busker - (British English) street entertainer

Fusege! - (Japanese) Stop, or Block! A command.

Hanase, kudasai! - (Japanese) Release (polite)

****

**Author's Note: (12-18-02) **(evil smirk) Well, I don't know what it is about Chapter 8's in my fics that bring out the worst in me, especially my tragic sense of humor. It might be something like the "seven-year-itch", where I can only keep up the angst and drama for 7 chapters before I need to cut loose with some of my infamous humor. Some of my friends become concerned with this wackiness ( cough - Aikido-chan - cough ) but it's no use: I'm incorrigible! Example of a dialogue with my beta-reader:

Aikido-chan: (frowning at the Joss-Saihitei marriage-virginity subplot) Are you _sure_ you want to go here?

Roku: (blithely) Hell, yeah!

Oh, and thanks to Aikido-chan for beta-reading and putting up with my cranky drugged-muse-fugue state.

So, I inflicted a really long chapter on you Bridge fans this time! Well, there's a reason: I won't be back here for awhile, being that I'm trying to kick out one more chapter of Casting Stones around the holidays (yes, it's the infamous "Enchantment" scene!), followed by (dum, dum, DUMMMM) Hidden Paths on a Cloud-Cast Night debut on January 7, 2003. Yes, it's a promise: the White Stones sequel in less than 3 weeks!

But as I said on my author page, I'm in no way abandoning Bridge or Casting Stones! So next time on Bridge: more Saihitei…but we go on to the Willow, too!

Ja ne!

Roku

P.S. Oh - Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa, and Happy Belated Eid! And any other holidays - oh yeah, Happy Winter Solstice to all you Wiccans!


	9. A Simple Gift

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 9. A Simple Gift

The boy-emperor of Konan cupped his chin in his hand and pondered the vagaries of fate, his eardrums thrumming from the level of noise erupting just in front of his throne. Not two minutes earlier, he'd been pacing agitatedly before his throne, cursing the restrictions of his position as emperor. His exalted status prevented him from rushing out to assure himself of the Lady Joss' safety, placed in doubt due to the conflicting reports regarding the two escaped prisoners. However, all concerned parties were now gathered before him, shouting at him and one another--and he was no closer to the truth of the situation than before.

"Heika, I wish to report that we no sooner entered the Lady Joss' quarters than we were attacked by these--"

"Attacked? That is a blatant exaggeration! I merely asked Houjun to--"

"As Protector of the Girl From Another World, I can tell you, Heika, that these ignorant dolts attacked us first!"

"Listen, Sai, this is all one huge mix-up; I never meant to imply that the Doctor--"

"Sachiko, you baka girl, stop talking as if you're the only one protecting Joss-san!"

"Heika, with your permission, I will immediately confine the prisoners to our most secure prison cell under constant guard."

"Excuse me," the emperor interjected into the overlapping arguments.

"Sad to see that the old cliché holds true; no good deed goes unpunished. I truly regret telling Houjun to release you soldiers--"

"No one's going to prison, damn it! I'm the Lady Joss, and I _forbid_--!"

"You'll have to go through me, first, you stupid clod of a soldier! I'm Sachiko of Kawagishi Village, and I challenge you!

"And I, Makoto!"

"And I, Yoshio!"

_"Fusege!_" The cry echoed around the throne room, freezing all combatants into immobility. No one was more startled than the Doctor, turning a wide-eyed look on his companion, his mouth opening and closing a few times in spell-induced silence.

Saihitei sighed and nodded at the magician in gratitude. "Thank you, er…"

"Ri. Ri Houjun."

"Yes. Thank you, Ri-san." The golden gaze turned on the silent tableau before him. "I intend to hear from each one of you_--one at a time_. Ri-san, you may release them under the strict understanding that they will speak only when requested."

"_Hanase, kudasai!_" Houjun was impressed by the young emperor's command of the situation, but the Doctor was somewhat less pleased, turning a reproachful look on his companion.

"Houjun, I really can't believe that you--"

"Doctor, hush."

"But it was _me_ that you--!"

"Doctor, please."

"I mean, after all this time together--"

"Doctor!" Houjun raised his hand threateningly before his face.

"You can't be serious!"

Houjun raised an eyebrow, and the Doctor subsided, "Oh, very well," muttering under his breath about take-charge companions, asps and bosoms. Houjun noted that Lady Joss seemed more entertained than irritated by his control over the contentious group, suppressing a smile at the Doctor's ruffled feathers.

Saihitei called the sergeant of the guard to the throne. There was a rising murmur of disgruntlement from the rest of the group, but a cold glare from the emperor and a raised hand by the magician brought the situation back under control. After one-half hour of questioning of all concerned parties, Saihitei finally felt he was in at least tenuous possession of the facts of the situation.

"Very well. It seems that there has truly been some confusion regarding the relationship, or lack thereof, between the Doctor and Lady Joss. We therefore recognize the Doctor and Ri-san as friends of Lady Josselin, thus friends of the Crown as well. We offer our apologies for their incarceration at our hands and extend an invitation to them to remain at the Imperial Palace as our honored guests for as long as they may wish. I designate the diplomatic suites in the east wing of the Palace for their use."

The Doctor beamed, all traces of ill humor gone. "Thank you kindly, Heika, but we do not expect to impose upon you for very long. Our mission calls us to continue our travels within the next two or three days, so we will need only as much time as it will take for the Lady Josselin to ready herself to accompany us."

Joss grinned happily, but Saihitei felt something in his chest drop to the floor. He struggled to maintain his equanimity. "You are welcome, Doctor, to anything the Lady Joss may require." He rushed ahead with his words before grief could close off his throat. "If you will please excuse me, I believe I will retire for the night. It has been a very tiring day." Saihitei rose quickly and nearly bolted from the throne room, his personal guard moving hastily in his wake.

The Doctor stood surprised for a moment at the emperor's abrupt departure, but Joss' eyes suddenly darkened in sympathetic pain. "Oh, damn," she breathed. "We were supposed to go on a quest together to find you two. Guess this really put an end to the poor kid's plans."

"No. It isn't just disappointment over cancelled adventures. It's the bitter knowledge of the loneliness he will face again." The words were quiet and sad, and the speaker turned and also silently exited the throne room.

Joss stared in surprise after the retreating figure of Houjun. The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "Well, let's wait and see if two lonely souls can reach out to one another. That's what we're here for, after all." Catching Joss' eye, he gave her a wink.

****

The next morning found Saihitei wandering disconsolately around the palace grounds, his personal guard trailing him at a distance after having been snapped at for treading on the emperor's heels. He shivered slightly in the chill air; the sun was still low in the East and had not yet risen over the trees of the Imperial Wood. Mists rose off the large ornamental pond that bordered the Imperial Palace. To his surprise, Saihitei could make out two figures sitting in the chill mists on the banks of the pond, fishing poles in the water. As he approached them, he recognized them as the Doctor and Ri-san, apparently avid anglers. Although he couldn't help feeling a small tug of resentment towards them at their unconscious shattering of his adventurous plans, he still felt that it would be less than gracious to allow them to waste their time.

"Excuse me," he called out to them with his customary politeness. "I'm afraid that there aren't any fish in that pond."

The Doctor looked up, fixing him with a delighted grin. "Just the person I was hoping to see! Good morning, Heika!"

Saihitei felt something thaw in him at the Doctor's friendly greeting. "Good morning."

"Heika, would you mind holding this fishing pole for me for a few minutes? There's something I simply must attend to, but I hate to leave Ri-san out here by himself. He feels somewhat nervous when left alone in strange places."

Houjun turned a startled glance on his mentor, completely confused at this misrepresentation of his character, but caught the Doctor's eye and understood. For some reason, the Doctor wished him to spend time alone with the boy-emperor. "Oh. Yes, please, Heika. I would be very honored if you would join me."

Saihitei stood undecided for a moment. The air was still chilly, and he had almost a thousand affairs of state screaming for his attention.

At that moment, the Captain of his Guard stepped forward, murmuring in his ear. "Heika, please remember that Lord Ashida wishes you to meet with him regarding--"

Suddenly Saihitei was filled with resentment at the constant demands of his position. Damn it, his friends were leaving and his heart was breaking, but all that the country wanted him to do was give, _give, give_ until there was nothing more left of him! He had had _enough!_

"Captain," he snapped, abandoning any attempt at his usual calm, adult tones, "I'm taking the rest of the day off! You are to inform Lord Ashida that I will meet with him at my convenience--which will be tomorrow at the soonest. Now leave me alone, for I am going to learn how to fish!" He took the pole from the Doctor's hand and dropped down next to Ri-san, blatantly ignoring the confused milling around of his guard.

The Doctor grinned in delight at the show of spirit in the youth. "Come, Captain, why don't you show me the way to the Imperial Dining Room on your way to Lord Ashida? I must confess, I'm feeling a bit peckish." The Captain found himself swept along by the Doctor, escaping only long enough to signal two of the Guard to keep an eye on the Emperor from a discreet distance.

Saihitei stared angrily at the water, waiting for some kind of remark or rebuke from his adult companion. But there was only silence, and he peeked over to see Ri-san staring dreamily at his fishing line, apparently at peace.

Time passed in silence, and the sun rose over the trees, warming the emperor and soothing his tension. The anger left him as if it were drifting away in the serenity of the setting, leaving him with a feeling of peace tinged with melancholy. Saihitei finally felt ready to address a few remarks to his silent companion, but the magician spoke first.

"It's very quiet here."

"Too quiet--and at times too loud. Either I'm left completely alone with only my thoughts for company, or the whole world seems to be shouting at me, clamoring for my attention!" Saihitei paused, flushing in shame. "I apologize. It's unseemly of me to complain about my lot when so many of my subjects suffer from poverty, disease, and hostile attack. I didn't mean to trouble you with my inappropriate fit of self-pity."

Houjun glanced over at the beautiful boy, his heart clenching in sympathy with the loneliness in Saihitei's gaze as he stared at his fishing line. "The Doctor often tells me, 'We none of us are perfect; that's why we need one another.' He's right, you know. It's ridiculous for any of us to expect to be perfect. Even an emperor needs to accept himself as he is: a human being beneath the crown, a person who needs the same things any other boy of his age needs. Freedom to be himself, a sense of privacy--and friends."

Saihitei bit his lip, afraid to look up for fear of letting the tears spill out of his eyes. This stranger, this gentle wanderer, was the first adult who'd ever spoken to him with such understanding and acceptance of who he really was. The other adults in his life--his advisors, his own mother--had always imposed upon him their expectations of what he _should_ be. They wanted him to be mature, wise, powerful, responsible; they never wanted to see the lost and lonely child beneath the heavy crown. But this mysterious man…well, he was the latest in a sudden influx of strangers who seemed to know him better than his own long-time counselors. He was part of a welcome flood of people who appeared unexpectedly…and just as suddenly disappeared.

Saihitei waited until his throat unknotted so that he could speak. "I _had_ friends. Just recently, I had friends for the first time in my life. But now they're leaving…and I'll be alone once more, and…" A wave of grief choked off his voice.

"You won't always be alone. I know that it's hard for you to believe, but someday, someone will come along, and everything will change." The light brown eyes smiled into his. "I was just like you, you know. I was surrounded by people and yet so alone. No one really knew me; no one was truly my friend. As far as I could see, my life was always going to be like that. Then one day out of nowhere, _he_ appeared--and everything changed. Now I walk a path I never dreamed of, with someone who understands me and accepts me with all my faults, all my secrets--and it will happen for you, as well."

The dark gold eyes were pained, filled with anxiety as they met Houjun's gaze. "But what if this is it? What if this is my _one_ chance to have real friends, and now it's over?"

"It isn't." Houjun's voice was strong and confident. "Didn't the Lady Joss mention that you were waiting for someone: the Girl of Prophecy?"

"Ye-es." Saihitei was suddenly hesitant. He felt that he could trust this stranger, yet the warnings of his mother and advisors still rang in his ears. 'Never let it be known before time that you are a celestial warrior of Suzaku. The future of Konan may rest upon this secret!' Although his entire court knew he anxiously sought the Priestess of Suzaku, they thought it was merely out of concern for the welfare of Konan. Only a select few knew that he was one of her shichiseishi--and Lord Ashida was adamant that the emperor's destiny remain secret, especially in light of what Kutou might attempt if they obtained this information.

"Well, when she appears, your life will change dramatically, won't it?"

"Yes," admitted Saihitei, regretfully deciding to keep his destiny to himself. "I…I hope to help her find the shichiseishi of Suzaku. I hope to gather them here at my court and help them as they set out to summon our god."

A shadow passed across Houjun's face. "A noble purpose," he murmured softly. "An honorable destiny." He realized that the emperor was staring at him, confused by the sudden darkening of his mood. He smiled with an effort. "So you see? The most exciting part of your life is yet to come. You must never give up hope, Saihi…Heika."

"I won't!" Saihitei's voice was vibrant with renewed purpose. "I'll do whatever is necessary to be worthy of her--of all of them! I'll practice my sword kata every day, and study the history and economy of Konan, and learn the tenets of diplomacy and maybe some foreign languages, and--!"

He was interrupted by Houjun's merry laugh. "Very well, Heika, but don't kill yourself in the attempt! You must also learn to schedule some fun into your day; don't forget how to laugh!"

"Oh, no, I'll be sure not to forget that!" Saihitei paused as he registered his over-earnest tones and realized that he was being teased. He grinned back at Houjun. "But as an Imperial command, I would request…no, I humbly ask, Ri-san, that you address me not by my title but by my name, as if…as if we were friends."

"We _are_ friends, Saihitei. And remember, no matter the distance or time spent apart, friends will always remain friends." Houjun reached over and clasped the boy's hand in the same grip that the Doctor used to comfort him.

Saihitei looked down at his hand, startled by the unfamiliar contact, but soon relaxed into his new friend's grip. Suddenly, he gasped in surprise. "The pole! It _moved_, I swear it! But I didn't think there were any fish in this pond!"

"Well, don't just sit there; start reeling!"

The emperor did as commanded, his brow furrowed in concentration and the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth. The fish fought energetically, but soon the novice fisherman triumphantly pulled it up out of the water. Houjun and Saihitei stared at the six-inch-long sunfish as it flipped around on the end of the line.

"Fit for an Imperial feast, do you think?"

"No." Saihitei regarded the undersized fish dejectedly, until he met Houjun's laughing eyes.

"Then…"

"Throw it back!" they shouted at the same time, laughing as they unhooked the fish, tossing it into the air. The sunlight flashed off its scales, glistening in a thousand rainbow colors, as the fish flicked its tail and returned to the freedom of the deep.

****

"Sir!" the sergeant bowed respectfully to the Captain of the Guard. "I have located the Emperor and his, er, new friends. They were at the edge of the East Lawn, just inside the Imperial Wood."

"Very good, Sergeant. Lord Ashida will be relieved to hear of the Emperor's safety. So where is the Emperor now?"

The sergeant looked down in shame and confusion. "Still in the Imperial Wood, sir."

"Why didn't you bring him back? That area is not completely secured!"

"They wouldn't come down out of the trees, sir. Lady Joss threw persimmons at me, the peasant children were exceedingly rude, and the Emperor himself--" The sergeant grew pale as he remembered the Emperor's command. He continued in a choked voice, "The Emperor commanded me to go boil my head! But I thought I should report to you first," he finished miserably.

The Captain rolled his eyes in aggravation. "He didn't mean that literally, you idiot! It's just an expression that means 'Go away!' And I'm about to use it on you, _with_ the literal meaning, if you don't leave my sight this instant!"

The sergeant bowed and hastily exited the room. The Captain sighed as he strapped on his weapons belt. "If you want something done right," he grumbled and left to begin the long hike across the wide expanse of the East Lawn.

The first sight that met his eyes as he stepped into the shade of the outlying trees was the graceful form of Lady Ruiko sitting on a blanket in an isolated patch of sunlight. The Captain stood transfixed for a moment, realizing for the first time the serene loveliness of the village miko. She looked up at that instant and smiled at him, and he felt as if something had penetrated the breastplate of his armor and pierced his heart. He felt as if he could do nothing other than stand frozen in place, staring stupidly.

A slight frown of puzzlement crossed the lady's lovely brow. "Can I help you with anything, Captain?"

High up in the trees, he could hear whispers and giggles, reminding him of his purpose in coming out to the woods. He forced his mind away from the dreamy contemplation of the musical tones of Lady Ruiko's voice and managed to rasp out a reply. "I was looking for the Emperor, my Lady."

Suddenly, a cascade of chestnut hair tinted with gold fell from above, nearly hitting him in the face, and the Captain found himself staring into the golden eyes of his Emperor as he dangled upside-down from an overhanging branch. "Is there a problem, Captain?" The velvet tones sounded relaxed, amused, and the Captain realized this was the first time he'd ever heard Saihitei sound so happy. He felt a pang at having to bring the youth back to reality.

"Heika, I need you to accompany me back to the Palace."

"Why? Is Konan falling as we speak?"

"No, Heika, but--"

"Are there more riots at the gates?"

"No, but--"

"Has the Girl of Prophecy made her appearance at last?"

"No, Your Highness, but--"

"Then I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm unavailable to escort you or anyone else to the Palace confines. I'm taking the rest of the day off; you'll just have to find your own way back!"

There were cheers and whistles from the surrounding greenery. The Captain looked up to see all of the Emperor's friends suspended in the branches above. The three peasant youths poked at one another from one tree, occasionally snatching at small transparent spheres that floated down from above, while in another tree, Lady Joss shared a persimmon and a sturdy branch with the Doctor's magician companion. The Doctor himself reclined on a still higher branch, dipping a tiny circular wand into a small bottle and blowing through it to produce the transparent spheres that floated in the light breeze before popping out of existence. For one moment, the Captain was caught up in the magic of the scene--but his sense of responsibility won out.

"I'm sorry, Heika, but I must insist that you return to the Palace. The kingdom needs you to guide them in these difficult times, and the areas outside the palace are not completely secured from intruders. It's not safe for you to be alone out here!"

Saihitei flipped himself back up onto the branch with easy athleticism, a mutinous expression darkening his perfect features.

However, it was the Doctor's mocking voice that rang out. "Oh, the kingdom needs him, his subjects need him… One would think that an entire kingdom full of people could find_ something _to occupy themselves for a single spring afternoon without having to tug at the Emperor's robes! I wonder how they scraped by until the boy learned enough words to lisp out his first edicts. At any rate, Captain, the Emperor is hardly alone; we're all here with him. And if you're so concerned for his safety, why don't you join us? You can guard him from the ground."

"Yeah, join us, Captain," Joss wheedled. "We've got plenty of treats in the basket there, enough to share. Why don't you just sit beside Lady Ruiko and help yourself to a custard roll? They're very…satisfying!"

The Captain flushed at the knowing laughter in Lady Joss' voice, and opened his mouth to object to this plan. However, at that moment, Lady Ruiko smiled at him and patted the blanket invitingly. The Captain instantly abandoned all thought of responsibility, consoling himself that he was only doing his duty by keeping an eye on the Emperor. He unbuckled his sword belt and took the proffered seat next to the new-found object of his heart.

Joss' voice rang out once again. "Oh, by the way, Captain, it sounds stupid to keep calling you 'Captain.' What's your given name?"

"Ken'ichi. Ozawa Ken'ichi." He blushed as he saw Lady Ruiko whisper his name to herself, committing it to memory.

"Well, Ozawa Ken'ichi, let me introduce you to Shimazaki Ruiko, Lady Miko of Kawagishi Village. Now that you two are on a first name basis, we hope you can occupy yourselves and leave us to our fun!"

Joss grinned as she watched Ken'ichi take the first hesitant steps in courting the lady, leaning in towards her as they conversed quietly. "Oh, yeah," she hummed in an undertone, swinging her feet. "Too bad that we're leaving tomorrow."

Houjun turned a quizzical look on her. "Why? Just a few hours ago, you said that you were looking forward to--"

"Oh, I'm not talking about _us._ I'm talking about _them._ Didn't you see it happen, Houjun? Love at first sight! Well, maybe second or third or fourth sight, but what does it matter? It's still Loooove!"

Houjun felt that strange sense of bemusement that possessed him whenever he spent time with Joss. She treated him with easy familiarity, as if they had been friends for years. Of course, she seemed to treat everyone with that same familiarity: assigning them nicknames, pushing them around, remarking on whatever caught her attention, no matter how personal.

"What, why aren't you eating? D'ya want to waste away to nothin'? Here, I'll take one last bite, and then it's all yours." Holding onto an overhead branch for support, she leaned over and bit into the persimmon he held, then licked the juice off her lips. "C'mon, c'mon, eat up!" She grabbed his hand and guided the fruit to his lips. He bit into it, thinking "indirect kiss," and fought back a blush.

Joss continued to remark quietly on the couple below. "I mean, am I like the only person who has eyes around here? Did you catch that, Doctor?"

"Naturally," the velvet tones floated down from above. "'Tis Spring, 'tis bonny Spring, and time to fall in love!"

"Who said that?"

"I did."

"I mean, who said it originally? Shakespeare? Byron? Tennyson?"

"Oh, I don't know! I can't seem to keep track of these things anymore; they're all just men in funny pants. Who knows? Maybe it _is_ original."

"Doubtful," muttered Joss.

Houjun fought down another thrill of jealousy at the secret language that Joss and the Doctor seemed to share in their little sparring interchanges. He decided that the best way to combat his jealousy was to join in the conversation. "I don't understand. It seems that they're having a pleasant conversation, but what makes you call it love?"

"Ah, Houjun, you've come to the right girl for instruction! Lady Joss, Matchmaker Extraordinaire, at your service! Observe, dear student, the hesitance in Ken'ichi's gestures and speech, as if he's thinking over what he's going to say or do before he does it. Observe the body language as he leans in towards Lady Ruiko--who, by the way, is as yet unaware of the exalted status she now holds in his heart. But most of all, observe that which first clued me in to the exciting events unfolding before us: observe his _eyes."_

Houjun squinted at the couple, straining to catch a glimpse of what Joss was describing. "I still don't see anything different about his eyes; he's not blinking too much or frowning or--"

"No, no, _no,_ not the motion of his eyes; it's the _look_ in his eyes! He's looking at her as if she's something…wonderful!"

Houjun's own mystical eyes widened, and he flushed red, remembering last night's encounter with Joss while healing her. "But…but that doesn't necessarily mean--"

"Oh yes, it does." Joss' tone was smug. "Trust your instructor; the eyes don't lie!" She looked over at his scarlet countenance and misinterpreted the reason for his embarrassment. "Don't get your knickers in a twist," she advised kindly. "Spying on new lovers is a perfectly acceptable form of entertainment, isn't it, Doctor?"

"Indubitably. At least, that's what my former companions always told me. Wonderful justification for rampant nosiness, I say."

Joss snatched the last piece of persimmon out of Houjun's hand and pitched it at the Doctor in mock anger. The Doctor caught it easily and popped it in his mouth, thus "indirectly kissing" both of them.

"All right," Joss announced, wiping her hands casually on her new silk trousers, "I can take a hint. Let's gather up the young 'uns and head deeper into the woods to give this new couple some privacy. Yo, Sai!"

The emperor looked up from the next tree where he had been giving Sachiko a boost up to a higher bough, and grinned at the familiar bellow. "You called, my Lady?"

"Time to swing out to new horizons!" Joss gestured towards the next set of trees as she pulled Houjun to his feet. "But take care that you don't break your neck, 'cause I don't feel like being executed for Imperial endangerment and treason on such a beautiful spring day!"

****

The next morning found the Emperor's friends in significantly more formal attire and sober state of mind as they prepared to bid farewell to Saihitei and the Imperial court. Saihitei fought the waves of sadness that swept over him as he performed the duties of his office – the last favors that he could bestow upon his friends. He cleared his throat and continued with his proclamation.

"To the brave defenders of the Girl From Another World, Asari Sachiko, Asari Yoshio and Iwasaki Makoto, the Imperial Crown wishes to reward them and their hometown of Kawagashi Village with thirty bushels of rice, six suckling pigs, and ten crates of Imperial ducklings, to be delivered now and on the anniversary of this date each year."

The three teens gaped in awe at the riches they had earned for their tiny village. The Emperor smiled briefly at the stunned silence from the normally noisy youths and continued with the last of his proclamation.

"Furthermore, the Crown wishes to inform these brave warriors that upon coming of age, they will be entitled, if they so desire, to commissions as officers-in-training in the Imperial Army." The eyes of Yoshio and Makoto lit up in joy and excitement, so that they nearly missed the last stunning part of this announcement. "This offer of course extends to the Lady Warrior of Kawagishi Village, Asari Sachiko."

Sachiko froze for a moment in stunned disbelief, then, with her usual impetuousness, rushed up to Saihitei and seized his hand, kissing it fervently. Yoshio merely stood gaping at the thought of his little sister as an officer in the Imperial Army, while Makoto hovered between smiling in delight at his own future and scowling in fierce jealousy at Sachiko's obsession with her emperor.

Saihitei pulled Sachiko to her feet, squeezing her hands and giving her a warm smile before turning her to rejoin her companions. He caught a significant look from Joss, and nodded briefly.

"I would also like to announce that I am assigning my own Captain of the Guard, Ozawa Ken'ichi, to escort my young friends and Lady Ruiko safely back to their home village. Captain Ozawa will also be in charge of setting up a security outpost in Kawagishi Village, which he will be expected to inspect on a regular basis."

Joss grinned and gave Saihitei an enthusiastic thumbs up, while Captain Ozawa at first grew pale, then blushed red at the realization of the frequency with which he could expect to encounter Lady Ruiko in the near future, beginning with three days on the road together. Joss sent a fierce warning glare at the three teens, who nodded in acknowledgement of her earlier instructions to give the two adults as much privacy as they could.

"All right!" whispered Joss to Houjun, who stood quietly beside her and the Doctor. The men were back in their usual clothing, deciding that they all three would assume nomadic disguises once they left the confines of Eiyou. "If Ken'ichi can't press his suit successfully with all these opportunities, then he doesn't deserve to win her!"

"Ah, yes, " murmured the Doctor. "Faint heart ne'er won fair maiden."

"Damn straight!" shot back Joss.

Saihitei cleared his throat, trying to loosen the constriction that had suddenly formed. "As for the Lady Joss," he began huskily.

At that moment, there was a commotion at the entrance to the throne room. A murmur went up from the nobles as a delegation from Kutou forced their way through the crowded room. The ambassador from Kutou stepped forward from a contingent of soldiers clad in Seiryuu blue armor. The Konan Imperial Guards raised their weapons and surged forward in anger at the breach of protocol by the Kutou soldiers in entering the throne room fully armed.

"Stand down!" barked Saihitei. The Imperial Guard drew back but did not lower their weapons, Captain Ozawa moving to their side to take command. The Kutou soldiers appeared nervous, almost spoiling for a fight, although they were severely outnumbered. Their commander, however, seemed cool and unperturbed, sending a bored ice-blue glance at the Imperial Guard.

"Whoa!" said Joss, checking out the brilliant golden hair and graceful build of the tall young commander of the Kutou guard. "That is one_ seriously_ gorgeous…" Her words trailed off as the blue eyes turned towards her, as cold and unfeeling as the eyes of a corpse. "Gee-ee-yaahh!" she amended under her breath, shuddering.

"Lord Fujiwara." The emperor's tones were as velvety as ever, although now touched with steel. "May I ask the meaning behind this unannounced intrusion?"

The Kutou ambassador smirked in an oily, self-satisfied way, his rich silk robes failing to conceal his overfed form. "His Highness, the Emperor of Kutou, has sent us to escort the Girl From Another World back to his Imperial Palace, where she will become his most honored…guest."

Lord Ashida started forward in anger. "We sent the reply to Kutou two days ago, explaining that the Lady Josselin is not the Girl of Prophecy!"

"Interesting," purred Lord Fujiwara. "We had never received any reply to our inquiry. Perhaps your falcon met with misfortune."

"Oh, yes?" The Doctor's voice was pleasant. "Then how do you know the message was sent by falcon instead of by courier?"

Lord Fujiwara flushed in anger. "I do not need to answer questions from a lowly _gaijin!_"

"But I have the same questions, Lord Fujiwara, and you do need to answer _me_--politely, if you value your neck." Saihitei had removed the velvet gloves, his golden eyes narrowed in anger.

Lord Fujiwara realized that he had overstepped the bounds of diplomacy and now stood in serious danger of losing his life. He began to sweat nervously, as the commander of his guard turned a cold, contemptuous glance on him.

The Kutou commander stepped forward, surprising the ambassador as he took his place. "My Lord Emperor," his tones were flat but unfailingly respectful, "I am under orders from my emperor to deliver the Lady Josselin to his court for a brief sojourn, merely to answer a few questions. Forgive me, but I do not believe this is an unreasonable request under the circumstances. After all, it is the prerogative of the Kutou Emperor to determine whether the lady in question meets the criteria for becoming the Priestess of Seiryuu."

Saihitei flushed in rage at the delicately implied threat, but Lord Ashida placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Heika," he whispered agitatedly. "It is as I feared--we have no choice! The commander is correct; the Kutou Emperor is within his rights to demand an audience with the Lady Josselin."

The blond commander smirked in triumph and waved his soldiers towards Joss. Suddenly, an ash staff was thrust before her, and the soldiers found themselves facing down the furious glare of the dark-haired young man who stood beside her. The Kutou soldiers moved their hands toward their swords as Houjun raised his right hand vertically before his face. The Konan guard raised their weapons in response to the Kutou action, and the three teens rushed forward to join Houjun beside the Lady Joss. A throne room battle seemed imminent, causing some lesser nobles to try to flee the room, while others tried to push forward to see the action. Chaos was beginning to take over, when suddenly an oddly-accented voice rang out.

"Oh, do stand down, all of you. This is simply ridiculous! The Lady Josselin is _not _the Priestess of Seiryuu--and I have the ultimate proof!"

The soldiers all stood in place, staring at the _gaijin _stranger who seemed to hold them in some strange spell. The Kutou commander was the first to recover. "If you have proof, you would do well to present it now." The threat was offered in a cool, modulated voice.

"Well, the Priestess of Seiryuu is required to be a virgin, is she not? I can personally attest that the Lady Joss is no such thing – and I am the one to know."

Joss flushed bright red, while the Imperial court stood with their mouths hanging open at the public declaration of such a private matter. The Doctor continued blithely. "Just last night, the Lady graced me with the acceptance of my hand in marriage, as well as…other intimacies."

Houjun choked in disbelief. Saihitei, the three teens, and Lady Ruiko all appeared equally stunned, while the Kutou ambassador grimaced in rage. The commander appeared unmoved, however. "So you expect us just to take your word for this…errr…"

"Bowman," interjected the Doctor, then laughed lightly. "Surely you are not asking for a public demonstration of our affections, Commander…er...?"

"Gi. Gi Ayuru. Forgive me, Bowman-san, but I have not observed any of the behaviors between you that are commonly seen with betrothed couples."

"Oh, that's because we quarreled this morning." The Doctor turned a remorseful gaze upon Joss. "Do forgive me…darling!"

Joss choked. "D-darling!"

The Doctor strode up to her and seized her hands dramatically. "Let's promise never to argue again, my heart's desire! When I think of how I almost lost you!"

"Laying it on a bit thick, Doctor," Joss whispered but gave in before his frantic eyebrow wriggling. The absurdity of the situation provoked her sense of humor. "Oh, no, the fault was all mine, darling…" she searched her mind for a first name for him, "…Rufus!"

The Doctor looked outraged but was forced to cover it up before the perceptive stare of Commander Gi. "Never mind, my love. The important thing is that we never let anything come between us again!"

'_Someone's been watching too many soap operas,_' Joss thought to herself, but replied just as passionately. "Nothing shall ever part us again, sweetcheeks!" Reaching under his coattails, she pinched him good and hard, and he jumped and yelped.

"Darling," the Doctor rebuked in a trembling voice. "Don't you think we should save these demonstrations for a less public place?"

"But you know I just can't resist those sweet cheeks!" crowed Joss joyfully, circling around for a second assault. The Doctor grabbed her around the waist and pinned her to his side to face the Kutou contingent, frantically slapping her hand away behind their backs.

"This grows wearisome." Commander Gi sounded as bored as ever. "And somewhat nauseating," he added, staring stonily at the maniacally grinning countenances of the betrothed couple. "It's time to leave, Lord Fujiwara."

The Kutou ambassador blustered in anger. "Surely you don't expect us to believe this ridiculous display!"

"But _I_ choose to believe them, Lord Fujiwara, and my scribes have inscribed it in the court records." Saihitei had regained his velvet tones. "Of course, your emperor may contest the legality of this betrothal, but by the time the matter is brought before arbitration, I expect that the D--that Bowman-san and his lovely bride may have some additions to their family."

"Oh, darling Rufus, you promised me at least five children!!" Joss burst out irrepressibly.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Why stop at five? Let's go for ten!"

"But my girlish figure!" Joss wailed in dismay.

Commander Gi turned an icy blue glance on the figure in question. "Too late," he muttered in contempt, then signaled his soldiers to withdraw. Lord Fujiwara had to bustle to exit the throne room under the protection of the Kutou guard.

The Doctor had to hold Joss back as she lunged after them, her fists clenched. "Did you hear what that bastard just said about me?" she snarled.

"Not half as bad as the things you said about me! Rufus, indeed!"

"Well, it was all I could think of at the moment. I was under duress!"

"Duress, is it? Is that what provoked the assaults on my backside?"

"No, that was succumbing to temptation." Joss grinned unrepentantly. "All that velvet; it just _begs_ to be pinched!"

"As I recall, you reached _under_ the velvet!"

"Well, that begs to be pinched even more. Sweetcheeks for _real_!"

"You are an impossible woman!"

"That's what all the boys tell me." Joss was completely smug.

"Er, Doctor, Lady Joss," Houjun strove to return them to a sense of place, the members of the Imperial court staring at them in shock.

Joss looked up at the stunned countenances surrounding them. "Oh, shut your traps and quit catching flies!" she snapped impatiently. "Haven't you ever seen a young couple in love before?"

Lord Ashida began coughing at the term "young," earning him another glare from Lady Joss. He moved nervously to Saihitei's side, bending and whispering in the Emperor's ear.

"Very well," announced Saihitei. "The Imperial Court would like to officially congratulate the Doctor and Lady Josselin on their betrothal and wish them safe passage on their journey into the blessed state of marriage. At this time, you are all dismissed while I bestow upon them my own personal well wishes."

The nobles of the court filed out, as well as most of the advisors, leaving behind only Saihitei and his friends, the Imperial Guard under Captain Ozawa's command, and Lord Ashida. Saihitei beckoned to his friends to approach the throne.

"I had no idea," he whispered to Joss and the Doctor.

"Don't worry, neither did we." Joss' tone was bitingly sarcastic.

"So this was a ruse?"

"_Yes!_" hissed both Joss and the Doctor.

"So you didn't really…?"

_"No!_" barked the Doctor.

Joss scowled at the vehement denial. "You don't have to sound so disgusted!"

"I am not disgusted. I merely do not...I don't usually…it's not my style to…"

"Oh, put a sock in it! You're digging yourself into a pretty deep hole here, Rufus! This was _your_ idea in the first place, remember?"

"One would think that others would show _some_ gratitude for the quick thinking that prevented both bloodshed and a fate worse than death. And stop calling me Rufus!" The Doctor grumbled to himself. "That's even worse than 'Professor.'"

"Doctor." Houjun tried again to separate the combatants, thinking wearily that it was going to be a very long journey if the Doctor and Joss intended to spat the entire time. But the Doctor changed moods with his customary abruptness, bestowing a sunny smile on all present.

Saihitei, however, remained troubled. "Nevertheless, it won't be long before Kutou uses its spies to uncover the ruse. Doctor, are you certain that you won't allow me to assign some Imperial guards to accompany you on your travels?"

"No, but thank you kindly all the same, Heika. I'm afraid that Imperial guards would draw attention to us, thus inadvertently endangering us even more."

"He's right, Heika," Lord Ashida added his sage advice. "It would be best if they departed as soon as possible, for their own safety."

"Very well." Saihitei tried to hide the pain in his voice. "Please see to it, Lord Ashida, that they are supplied with everything they need for their journey."

Joss felt her own throat constrict at the Emperor's sadness. She went up to the throne and grasped his hands. "Listen, Sai, everything's going to get better, I promise. That's a personal guarantee from your personal friend Joss. Pretty soon, you'll have so many friends around, you won't even remember me--but I'll never forget you, I promise you that."

"Nor will I forget you, Lady Joss, no matter how many companions I may gain in the future. Please accept an emperor's thanks for your friendship, which I will treasure to the end of my days."

Joss leaned forward and pressed her lips to Saihitei's forehead in a gesture both intimate and maternal, then hugged him briefly before turning away, leaving him his dignity as he blinked back tears. Saihitei raised his eyes to meet Houjun's gaze, taking comfort from the magician's warm smile and encouraging nod.

Meanwhile, Joss was busily ruffling the hair of her three young escorts, then turned to her first friend in this world. Her eyes filled with tears as she pulled Lady Ruiko into a fierce hug. "Without you, I would be hopelessly lost," she whispered brokenly. "Without you, I might well be dead."

"No, Joss-sama, your courage would have seen you through--your courage and the favor of Suzaku, which shines brightly upon you. But I consider myself privileged to have been able to assist you…" Ruiko's voice wavered at this point, "… and to call you my friend. So remember, my dear friend: never lose faith in yourself, nor in Suzaku. Wherever the future takes you, be the light that pushes back the darkness."

Houjun frowned, troubled at the miko's strangely premonitory words, but Joss just hugged her tighter and wept. Finally, she released Ruiko-sama and turned to rejoin Houjun and the Doctor, when suddenly she was seized from behind by two arms and pulled into a fierce bear-hug by someone who was weeping loudly. Joss turned in the embrace, expecting to see Sachiko, but was stunned to find out that it was Yoshio clinging to her and crying. She patted his back awkwardly, murmuring a few confused phrases of comfort while sending a startled glance towards Ruiko.

The miko smiled, but it was Sachiko, scowling impatiently, who finally pulled Yoshio off Joss. "Come on, 'Nii-chan, time for us to go home. Don't feel bad; maybe we'll see Lady Joss again some day." She sent an apologetic glance towards Joss. "Sorry, Joss-san. It's just that Yoshio has such a soft heart and hates to say good-bye."

Joss fought back a smile. "No, it's quite all right, Sachiko. I feel the same way, Yoshio; take care of yourself for me, okay?" Yoshio nodded, still sobbing uncontrollably as he was led away by his younger sister.

Less than an hour later, members of the Imperial guard were clustered anxiously around a tall tree in the Imperial gardens that rose high enough above the confining walls to overlook the city. "Please, Heika," pleaded the sergeant in temporary command. "Please come down out of the tree."

Saihitei ignored him, balancing comfortably on a sturdy branch while staring down at the road that led into the marketplace. He watched the three figures on horseback as they grew smaller in the distance, finally disappearing into the city. He lifted his eyes to track a flight of geese as they flew honking towards a distant pond, then deeply inhaled the fragrance of the Imperial woods that rose behind the gardens.

The sergeant tried once more. "Please, Heika, it's not safe for you to be up so high!"

"Too bad," the boy retorted, taking control of his life for once. "I'm looking out at the city--and if you don't like it…" he paused, trying to remember Joss' exact phrasing, "… you can lump it!"

****

The three riders trotted through the marketplace at a leisurely pace. Joss was mounted behind Houjun, pulling the lead rein on their little mountain pony while the Doctor, on his own horse, frowned at the mirror in his hand. Finally, he reined in his mount just as they entered a slightly less busy street and dismounted, still staring distractedly at the mystical mirror. "It keeps flashing _city_ and _girl_ and _boy_, never fixing on one for long," he muttered testily. "I'm not certain what it means."

At that moment, there was a rush of movement around him, and something caught his arm, spinning him around. The mirror flew up out of his grasp and landed noiselessly as the figure of a slender boy clutching a satchel disappeared around the next corner. Houjun had just leapt off his own horse to help the Doctor when four more boys shot past them, in apparent pursuit of the first youth.

_"Hey!_" Joss shouted after them, joining the Doctor and Houjun in looking for the mirror.

"It's not here! It must have fallen in among that first boy's things. We must go after him!"

The three travelers took off in pursuit of the boys, running through the narrow winding streets past startled shopkeepers, peering down dark passageways. Finally they reached an intersection of several twisting lanes. "Split up!" gasped Joss. They each took one of the lanes, Joss trying valiantly to keep going although her sides ached from lack of breath. Finally she was forced to slow to a walk, cursing herself for being out of shape for sprints and marathons. "I hope Houjun and the Doctor are having better luck," she grumbled, then caught the sound of young voices. She ran awkwardly clutching her side until she reached a side passageway. Peering down the shadowed alley, she saw their quarry, his back pressed up against a wall as his four pursuers taunted him.

The youth looked to be about sixteen years old, with large, almost femininely pretty violet eyes and dark violet hair twisted into a topknot. He clutched his satchel defensively as the other boys jeered at him.

"Hey, _okama! _Lookit the gay boy! Is he gonna cry yet?"

"Where're your pretty dresses, _okama?_ Gonna borrow some from your _sister?"_

The violet-haired young man tried to back further into his corner. "Leave me alone," he whimpered. "I never did anything to you."

"Lookit the baby cry! Why dontcha fight back, little girl? Or are you scared you might break a fingernail?"

"I'm no _okama!_"

A large, muscular boy stepped forward, the obvious ringleader of the group. "Oh, but we know all about you; you and your family. You're all a bunch of freaks, just like your _sister! _Where's your _sister_, huh?" He shoved the first youth against the wall.

"Hey!" shouted Joss angrily, enraged at the bullying.

The boys turned at her shout, but at the same instant, a slim form darted past her, barrelling straight into the large bully and knocking him violently against the wall. The figure then grabbed two of the remaining three boys by their necks and knocked their heads together. Joss was stunned to see that the new assailant was a slender, pretty girl who looked to be Sachiko's age, her long dark violet hair falling to her waist, a beauty mark just beneath her left eye.

At the same time, the Doctor and Houjun arrived out of breath, taking in the situation at a glance. The three adults held back, letting the young girl sort out the bullies by herself.

The girl let the two boys fall, then advanced menacingly on the last boy. He let out a wail of terror and fled the scene. "Who's the _okama_ now?" she shouted after him, then turned, smirking, to deal with the large bully who was lying crumpled against the wall, groaning in pain. She pulled him to his feet, grasping and twisting his wrist until he shrieked in agony, tears of pain running down his face.

"All right, Gushiken Hideki--or should I say Hideko?" the girl taunted, using the feminine form of the bully's name. "Seems that you're a pretty tough guy, throwing around words like "_okama"_ and "freak." But what's this? I think you might be _cry-ing!_ I think you might be _sor-ry!_ Are you sorry _yet,_ Hideko?" She gave his wrist another twist, eliciting another shriek from the boy.

Houjun started forward, but Joss held him back. "Trust me, Houjun, this kid's got it coming to him! You weren't here for the stunts he was pulling before she showed up."

The girl continued with her lesson. "It seems you have a problem with me, Hideki. Say, '_Yes, Miss Kourin,'_ understand?"

"Yes, Miss Kourin!" the boy gasped.

"Let me make myself clear: if you have a problem with me, you take it up with _me,_ _not_ my brother. Is this making sense to you yet, Hideki?"

"Yes, Miss Kourin!"

"I hope that this is the last time I need to have this discussion with you or any of your little friends. Because if it's not, the next time I won't be so nice, do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Kourin!"

"Good. Now make your apologies to my brother and get your ugly face out of my sight before I change my mind about _not_ kicking your ass!"

She shoved the large bully in the direction of the slender youth, who cringed back in fear. But all the bully did was make a deep though unsteady bow, murmuring "Gomen, Chou Rokou."

"That's Chou-_san_ to you, Hideki," corrected Kourin.

"Gomen, Chou-san!" repeated Hideki, then staggered off with his two equally dazed companions.

Kourin finally looked up and noticed the three strangers watching her. Her eyes narrowed for a moment in suspicion, but the Doctor moved forward with his usual ingratiating grin, spreading his hands apart in a non-threatening way.

"Very impressive, Miss Kourin. Normally I don't go in for ultra-violence myself, but I must admit, I can't abide bullies either! However, we're not here merely to applaud your, er, firm re-education of misguided youths. We have a personal favor to ask concerning a possession of ours that had become lost at the beginning of the melee. It's possible that it may have ended up accidentally sequestered among your brother's things."

Kourin glanced over at Rokou, who appeared to be in the midst of a resentful sulk. "Rokou, do you know anything about this?"

"No! I was too busy running for my life to take notice of any stupid _gaijin_ in my way!"

"Manners," warned Kourin softly, in her pleasantly low and husky voice. "Don't be such a dolt, Rokou. The man's asking nicely; the least you can do is take a look through your things."

Rokou shoved his satchel rudely towards the strangers. Kourin rolled her eyes in aggravation. "Go ahead and look through it, Mister, er…"

"Doctor. I'm the Doctor, and these are my friends Ri-san and Joss." He started to rummage happily through the satchel, while Houjun made a polite bow and Joss flashed a friendly smile at Kourin. "Here it is!" The Doctor brandished the mirror in triumph, handing the satchel back to Kourin. Their hands met, and suddenly a startled look crossed the Doctor's features. Almost simultaneously, Houjun's face also registered surprise. Joss frowned, not understanding what was causing such a reaction in her companions, but Kourin seemed suddenly uncomfortable and drew back from the strangers.

She turned and walked over to her brother, handing him his satchel and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, Rokou; let's go home."

But the boy shoved away from her angrily. "I don't need you to walk me home, Ryu…Kourin! I don't need anything from you at all!"

"_Maaa-taku!_ What's your problem now?" Kourin was exasperated.

"You!" shouted her brother, nearly in tears again. "_You're_ my problem! None of this would have happened to me if it weren't for you, you and your queer ways! All you can think about is yourself! You don't care how much suffering you put me and Mother and Father through; no, you just have to go on being a goddamn _freak!_ Well, I might have to live with you--but I don't have to _walk_ with you!" He snatched up his satchel and left the lane at a run.

Joss stared after him in shock. "Talk about ingratitude!"

Kourin just stood quietly for a moment, staring after her brother. "Crybaby," she muttered, but Houjun caught the flash of pain in her eyes. The Doctor was equally observant, his eyes flicking back and forth from the mirror in his hand to Kourin's face.

Joss cracked her knuckles angrily. "Just because his sister's a little stronger than him, he didn't have to be such an assh--"

"Joss!" interrupted the Doctor. "I believe that you're terribly hungry right now. Why don't you and I try to locate a noodle stand while Ri-san escorts Miss Kourin back to her home?"

"I'm not all that hungry, Doctor. I can wait until we all--"

"No, you're positively starving. I can tell by that edge you get in your voice when you've gone without food for too long."

"Well, I do tend to get a little snappish when I'm hungry, but right now, I honestly don't need--"

"Joss." The Doctor gave her a hard look, and she finally caught on.

"Oh, that's right. You're right as always, Doctor. FOOD! _NOW!"_

Houjun and Kourin flinched at her bellow. "How can you stand to travel with someone who's always hungry?" she whispered to Houjun. Houjun shrugged, unsure of why the Doctor wanted to leave him alone with Kourin but gamely going along with the plan.

However, Kourin was not as cooperative. "Look, I appreciate all the concern, but as you've seen, I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to walk me home. So, it's been nice to meet you, but--"

The Doctor suddenly snapped his head up and fixed her with an intent green gaze. "All the same," he murmured, his soft words at odds with the intensity of his stare, "it would be nice to have someone to talk to as you walk, wouldn't it? It would be no trouble for Ri-san, I assure you."

Kourin stared into the hypnotic gaze. "I suppose it would be all right…" she conceded hesitantly.

"That's settled! Ri-san, after you return Miss Kourin to her home, we'll meet you back where we first lost the mirror." The Doctor winked at them both, then, grasping Joss' arm, steered her rapidly back down the passageway.

Kourin frowned in confusion. Whatever made her agree to this odd plan? She glanced over at the quiet young man who stood beside her. Was this "Doctor" trying to secure a wife for his shy son? If so, he was in for a huge disappointment. He was destined for the same disappointment if he ended up being the ringleader of a clever group of slavers. But somehow, Kourin didn't think that either of these conjectures was correct. Deep inside, she had the feeling that she could trust these people; she just didn't know why.

She sighed, turning to her quiet companion. "Well, let's go, then. By the way, are your friend's eyes green or blue? They seem to keep changing color."

****

For some inexplicable reason, Kourin found her footsteps turning to the longer, more scenic route home. She and Houjun skirted the edge of the marketplace, wandering along a dirt path that meandered beside open fields of wildflowers. The girl impulsively stopped to pick flowers along the way, gathering a large armful. Every so often, she would catch Houjun looking at her in a serious, puzzled manner, yet he didn't seem to feel the need to break the oddly comfortable silence between them. Kourin let her thoughts drift to the earlier confrontation with Rokou and, without realizing it, began to speak her thoughts aloud.

"He's really not such an idiot as he appears--my brother, I mean. Life's been hard for him these past few years. You see, we lost my other brother in an accident. He was older than me but younger than Rokou; still, Rokou had depended on him for everything. He doesn't know quite what to do with himself ever since Ryuuen died."

Houjun turned his eyes to meet Kourin's, his gaze suddenly keen and sharp. "I lost people I loved not so long ago myself--family, friends. It's strange what such a loss can do to a person. It can make him want to push it out of his life, pretend that it didn't happen. It can make him want to _be_ someone else; maybe wear a mask…or a disguise."

Kourin looked up in shock, her throat constricting in sudden fear. What did this stranger know about her--and _how_ did he know it?

But Houjun had turned his eyes to the horizon, neatly sidestepping any confrontation. "Something your brother said really struck me: he called you a freak. That's something that I've been called in my life--sometimes by others, but mostly from my own self. It's funny; it hurts worse to hear it from myself than from strangers. Maybe because it seems truer from my own lips."

"You--a freak? Why would anyone call you that? You look perfectly normal to me."

The intense stare was directed at her again. "Looks can be deceiving. Everyone wears masks of some sort, Miss Kourin. Some are just better at it than others." The soft voice went on. "The question is: what makes us freaks? Is it deformity? Strange abilities? Anything that is unique? What does the word 'freak' mean, anyway?"

Kourin looked down, biting her lip as she pondered the question. "I think…I think it means someone who is different…in such a way that he makes other people uncomfortable about _their_ differences. Everyone wants to be alike, after all. Everyone wants to be a part of the same crowd. When there's someone who is obviously different, he makes it so that the rest can't pretend that everyone is exactly like them--and that makes people uncomfortable. It makes some people so uncomfortable that they want to hurt him, make him go away. That's why they call him a freak."

Houjun glanced at the girl, impressed by her insight. She'd given him as much to think about as he had given her, and he hadn't expected that. However, she'd obviously seen much of the darker side of life, just as he had.

"What should we do then, Miss Kourin? Should we freaks go away as requested?"

A pixieish grin was suddenly turned upon him. "Hell, no! Let the world be uncomfortable with us! We have to keep to our uniqueness!"

"You're right. Yet what if we're not ready to let go of our masks…or our disguises?" Suddenly Houjun turned towards Kourin and laid a hand firmly on her silk blouse, pressing down. She gasped in shock at the intimate contact--yet there was nothing sexual in his gaze. There was only understanding: understanding and compassion, as he pressed against the firm flatness of a young man's chest. Kourin's heart beat wildly under the revealing touch, as she was seized with conflicting emotions of fear and relief.

"I think," Houjun murmured, still holding his hand over Kourin's heart, "I think that we should continue to wear our masks and disguises as long as we feel the need. But I also think that we should strive to know our true selves that lie beneath the masks. Only when we learn to be happy with the truth of who we are, can we step out from the shadows in which we hide." He smiled sadly at the violet-haired youth before him. "I'm not preaching at you; I'm hardly ready to shed my own mask yet. I just thought that it was important that you know that someone understands…Ryuuen."

Violet eyes flashed to meet the magician's mystical gaze. Slowly the youth straightened, somehow bringing forth his masculine features from beneath the delicate feminine façade. His jawline grew stronger as he set his teeth, his chin looked firmer and his shoulders slightly broader beneath the layers of silk. Houjun knew that he was now seeing the true Chou Ryuuen who lay hidden, suppressed behind the identity of Chou Kourin.

Ryuuen swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice husky with anxiety. "But what if everything behind the mask is a lie? What if everything I am is just shadows and deception, and there's really nothing there at all? What if Kourin is the only truth there is--and everyone finds out that she's a lie?" He cast his eyes down again. "As you saw back there, they're already beginning to find out the truth."

"Kourin is the truth, and Ryuuen is the truth, and the love that recreates Kourin in Ryuuen is the greatest truth of all. Is love between two people a lie because the outside world says it cannot exist? No; no more than love can be forced into existence because the outside world says it must be so. Love is a truth that only the people who share it can know." Houjun's voice trailed off, his thoughts turning to the his own dark past. "Maybe I need to listen to myself," he whispered. "Maybe I need to accept a love I once found unacceptable."

Ryuuen looked up at the pain in Houjun's voice and caught his hand as it fell away from his heart. He squeezed the hand to comfort him, marveling to himself how close he felt to this stranger who had walked into his life less than an hour ago, closer than he felt toward his own brother. Ryuuen somehow sensed the wounded spirit in the older man. Wounded spirit… kindred heart…

"You need to be a little less hard on yourself," he declared suddenly, out of the blue. Ryuuen grinned at the startled look on Houjun's face. "No, don't try to fool me. If we're so much alike with our masks and secrets, then we're also alike in being relentlessly hard on ourselves while being ridiculously tolerant of others. So if we're going to face the truth about our inner selves, maybe, _just _maybe, it would be a good idea to also give ourselves a break at times."

Ryuuen couldn't explain the reason behind his sudden attack of high spirits, although he suspected it might have something to do with this strange inner conviction that he was _not_ condemned to spend the rest of his life alone. This inner certainty was a gift from this stranger – this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere and given him the understanding and compassion that Ryuuen's own family could not. He had given Ryuuen hope. A simple gift…a priceless gift.

Ryuuen was startled to see that they were nearly at his front door. On an impulse, he pushed all of the wildflowers into Houjun's arms, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Ri-san."

Houjun flushed a brilliant red, his mystical eyes opening wide in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I didn't." Ryuuen was smug, back to being a flirtatious girl again. "I felt you deserved a birthday present, and I guess I just lucked out on the day. Today must be my lucky day!" He flashed a cheeky grin and raised a hand in farewell, disappearing into the house.

Houjun stood bemused for a few moments, surrounded by the fragrance of the wildflowers. Suddenly he felt a tap on his arm and looked down into the mischievous, wizened countenance of an elderly man who had been walking past.

The old man waved his stick emphatically at Houjun. "Mark my words, young man: don't let that pretty girl get away! She might be a bit young, but you'd better jump in and marry her before someone else carries her off!"

Houjun was stunned into silence for a moment – then burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation carrying him away on waves of mirth.

The elderly man grinned in sympathetic glee, watching as the younger man walked off into the distance, still laughing. "Yep," he crooned to himself. "Nothing like Spring to make the youngsters fall in love!"

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms

Baka - stupid

Heika - Your Highness

Gomen - Sorry

Hanase, kudasai! - Release, please!

Shichiseishi - celestial warriors

Gaijin - foreigner

Maaa-taku! - Really!

Okama - homosexual or crossdresser

*

**Author's Notes: (2-19-03) **Back at last, as promised! Took a while longer than I had hoped, but Life, the Universe, and Everything, as usual. See, Kris? I toldja I'd be back this week, so I'm expecting some constructive criticism, emphasis on criticism!

For you Doctor Who fans, I threw in an obscure reference from the TV series (and the novels). Did you catch it? Hint: Think Ace! Oh, and criticism is appreciated from you all, too - that means _negative_ comments that I will NOT take offense at, since they will enable me to become a better writer! (Of course, "You suck! Give it up!" is not _exactly_ what I was looking for… hee-hee!)

And for the Fushigi Yuugi fans: well, we've made it past the Star and the Willow, as promised. What's coming up next? Think healer --and one small, scrawny, red-haired, loud-mouthed pain-in-the-ass! I can't wait! (Joss: (scowling) I can!)

Because I've been away from this fic for so long, I'm doing a one-two punch, so Chapter 10 of Bridge will be my next posting. As I've said time and again, I have to get to the climax of this story in order to move on with "Hidden Paths." So, see you soon, Bridge fans!

Ja ne!

Roku


	10. An idyllic interlude

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Warning: True "M"-rated chapter for depiction of male sexuality. Please respect all restrictions with this rating.

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Kryssa, mostly to embarrass the heck out of her. It's also dedicated to CG--because it won't embarrass her _at all!_

****

Chapter 10. An idyllic interlude.

"Joss…"

His gentle voice never failed to send a pleasurable thrill down her spine. She smiled softly, sensing the greyish light of dawn glowing behind her closed eyelids. Warm…he was so warm, his muscles strong and hard beneath her embrace. She burrowed deeper into his warmth, her body suspended in a drowsy, sensual limbo between consciousness and sleep.

"Joss, please."

There was a pleading note in his soft tones. Didn't he understand that he didn't have to ask for anything from her? Everything she was, everything she had was his for the taking…but maybe he needed reassurance.

"Mmmm, Houjun," she murmured, tightening her arms around him.

"Joss, could you please let go of me? I _have_ to get up now!"

She frowned dimly at the desperate edge in his voice. Something wasn't right; he was supposed to be holding her passionately, not tensing in her grip. Unless…

Her eyes flew open, and she realized that, unlike in her dream, he was facing away from her, trying to gently pry her arms off him.

"Oh my _God!"_ she screamed, releasing him and trying to leap away. Her bedroll was pushed right up against his, however, preventing her from putting a modest distance between them. "Oh my God, oh my God, I am soooo _sorry!_" Her desolate wail resounded around the walls of the small tent. "I can't believe I did it _again!_ I swore that it wouldn't happen again, but--"

Houjun rose quickly from his bedroll, pulling on his slippers. "Look, Joss, can we talk about this later? Right now, I have to--"

"Good morning, sleepyhead slug-a-beds!" The Doctor ducked into the tent, his brown-gold locks gleaming as if freshly brushed, the velvet and silk of his tailored suit as exquisite and unwrinkled as if he had just left the ministrations of a personal valet. "I trust you both had a quiet and, er, restful night?" His eyes twinkled merrily at what was becoming their routine early-morning-waking panic.

"Ohayo, Doctor." Houjun paused, unable to bring himself to be rude, even though he was anxiously shifting his weight from foot-to-foot.

The Doctor frowned at him. "What are you doing just standing here? Don't you need to--?"

Houjun shot him a grateful glance and dashed out of the tent.

Joss raked her fingers through her wildly corkscrewing curls and glared blearily at the Doctor. "Do you have to be so damn cheerful all the time?"

"Oh, someone's such a grumpy bunny in the mornings. Well, I'm sorry that I can't offer you a cup of coffee, but I do have a pot of excellent tea brewing outside."

Joss felt ashamed at taking out her bad humor on the Doctor. "Sorry, Doctor. Guess I'm just not a morning person." She narrowed her eyes at his elegant figure. "And it doesn't help when Mr. Perfectly Turned Out Esquire Model of the Year shows up to provide a striking contrast to us mere mortals who have to struggle with morning mouth and bed-head. Don't you _ever_ sleep?"

"Sleep is for--"

"Tortoises, yeah, you said so a couple of nights ago. So I'm a tortoise, shoot me. I'll remind you that we lower beings have to get a decent amount of shut-eye, or else we turn into raving homicidal maniacs." Her ever-present sense of curiosity was provoked. "What do you do all night anyway, while the tortoises are snoring?"

"Well, if I had my TARDIS, any number of fascinating things. But being that I'm as stranded here as you are, my entertainment choices are far more restricted – although my explorations often result in significant pay-offs, especially for my chilly companions." He flashed a grin at Joss' shivering form.

Joss' face lit up. "You wouldn't joke about a thing like that, would you?"

"Perish the thought! I would never be so cruel."

"Have I told you lately how much I admire and respect you? No, more than that; I positively _love_ you! You have my lifetime devotion, Doctor, if only you tell me--"

"Bribery and flattery are completely unnecessary. Make a left outside the tent, take the path into the woods, branching right just over the second rise, follow along the curves in the path for about 50 meters, and there you'll find a perfectly wonderful hot spring."

Joss snatched up a towel and her bathing supplies. "Let's see, some clean clothes and undies…Oh! Should I wait for Houjun to get back? I don't want to stumble across him by accident and make him think that I'm an even bigger perv than he already takes me for." She strove for a flippant tone, but the Doctor read the embarrassment and misery in her words.

"No, don't worry. He went off in the opposite direction."

"Right then, I'm off. See you in an hour, Doctor."

"Wait, Joss." The Doctor reached into his pocket and held out his tube of peppermint toothpaste.

"Oh, God! Have I told you lately how much I _adore_ you?"

"Tell me after you've brushed your teeth," he admonished, pushing her out of the tent.

Several minutes later, Houjun returned to their camp. The Doctor smiled at him from beside the campfire and offered a steaming cup of tea. Houjun sipped it gratefully, then looked around their site.

"Is Joss around?"

"No, she went off to freshen up a bit." The Doctor inhaled deeply. "Ah, the fresh mountain air! Positively invigorating! Of course, it's a two-way road when you think of the excitement we provide to the local fauna as they wake to the screams issuing from your tent every morning."

Houjun blushed furiously. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't mean to make her scream…"

"You have no idea how that sounds," muttered the Doctor to himself.

"…but I can't seem to get out of her embrace without waking her. And I'm not really sure why she--"

"Well, these spring nights in the mountains are still uncomfortably cold. I'm certain that she just subconsciously seeks out warmth during the night. I believe her major concern is what _you_ think of her."

Houjun frowned at their little fire. "Believe me, Doctor, I don't think anything bad about her. I'm just not used to sleeping with a woman's arms wrapped around me; at least, not since I was a little child."

"Is it such an unpleasant sensation?"

"No," Houjun admitted reluctantly, the tips of his ears a brilliant scarlet. His voice dropped in embarrassment. "I'd almost have to say the opposite…" His eyes were dark with concern as he met the Doctor's gaze. "I know that it happens in all innocence. But I don't know how to tell her not to be so _worried_ about it without making myself sound like a-- We're just starting to become friends. I don't want to threaten that by making statements that can be misinterpreted as…inappropriate advances."

The Doctor repressed a sigh. Really, young humans were so maddeningly obtuse at times! It was obvious that, as much as he hated to meddle in others' affairs, he was going to be forced to take an active hand in things. He dug around in his pockets and produced a second tube of toothpaste. "Here, Houjun, why don't you take this to Joss as a peace offering? That way, she'll know that you're not angry with her."

"But I thought you said she was--"

"You two have shared the amenities of a fresh-water spring before, haven't you?"

"Yes," agreed Houjun hesitantly, remembering how Joss would laugh and shout at the icy cold water they would scoop out of a tiny spring. She would talk non-stop as they cleaned their teeth and their faces, seeming to enjoy the camaraderie during their personal ablutions.

"Well, then, grab your towel, then follow these directions."

Less than a minute later, the Doctor watched as Houjun disappeared into the woods. Suddenly a huge grin broke across his features. "If Ace were here, she would say that I'm positively wicked!"

****

Houjun rounded a slight curve in the path, frowning at the mist that drifted over his feet. The Doctor hadn't said anything about a hot spring in the area. He looked up as a flash of movement caught his eye--then froze in place, his face flushing red.

She couldn't have been more than twenty paces away from him, and had she not been pouring water over her head, she would've heard his approach. She knelt in a grassy patch a short distance from the spring, careful not to let the soap from her hair and body flow into the pristine waters. Humming some obscure tune in a strange key, she ran her fingers through her hair, blissfully lost in the pleasure of cleaning herself--and Houjun felt his mouth go dry at the perfect beauty and unconscious sensuality of her movements.

Most of the time, she dressed in loose, almost masculine clothing and talked in a blunt, unaffected way, so Houjun had never really thought of her in feminine terms. What he was seeing right now wasn't exactly _feminine_, either; she had no frills or affectations. She was simply, magnificently female: her muscles moving smoothly under her glistening skin, her body toned like a fighter's, the curve of a breast becoming visible as she turned towards the spring. She moved with an ease and surety he had never noticed before, her relative silence emphasizing her animal grace--and the male in him answered her siren's call.

A wave of sexual excitement swept over him, making him grow taut and hard with desire. He felt his heart pound as he nearly grew dizzy with the unaccustomed sensations: sensations that he had thought long dead in him, drowned beneath the bitter waters of a long-ago flood. But now they raged back into furious life, making him almost cry out at the sharp suddenness of his fierce arousal. His sensual nature overtook his reason, clouding his mind, and all he knew was that he _wanted_ her, _burned_ for her, yearned to stride up to her and claim her as his. He needed to bury his throbbing, aching body in hers, to feel her warmth bring him back to life, making him _feel_ again, making him…whole again.

At that moment, she looked up--and their gazes locked. For one breathless moment, the passion blazed between them as her lips parted in unconscious desire. He breathed heavily, wanting to leap across that short distance between them and take her lips, take _all_ of her! He shifted his weight, raising his hand to his own lips in anticipation--then felt the mask. The mask: the false representation of who he was, what he might have been had he not killed. That was what she saw, wasn't it?--some idealized version of a man who didn't exist, some unscarred man who wasn't him. Houjun turned his eyes away in shame.

He heard her sigh very softly and knew that the moment was gone. She was safe; safe from him and his twisted passions. He could hear her shift position, then clear her throat. "Umm," she murmured huskily. "I think the word we're looking for here is 'Oops.'"

He continued to stare at the ground, miserably embarrassed and unbelievably frustrated, his stubborn body refusing to give up its state of arousal. What was _wrong_ with him? Usually he had such control…no, that wasn't right. 'Usually' didn't exist for him; sexual arousal didn't exist for him anymore, until now. He tried to subtly move the towel in front of his trousers, praying that she hadn't noticed his excitement.

"Well, since you've decided to become the great mysterious Sphinx, I think I'll just mosey on into the water, and maybe you can find your voice again." He heard the splashing as she entered the spring, still talking. "Of course, your state of immobility might be taken as less than flattering to me; in Greek mythology, there was a snake-haired woman named Medusa, the sight of whom could turn a man…to stone."

Suddenly her voice was filled with laughter, and he looked up, startled. He didn't know these myths she was referring to, but…turning a man to stone? She couldn't possibly be alluding to his-- His eyes widened at the thought, and he finally met her laughing gaze.

She lost it completely then, howling with laughter so infectious that he found himself smiling against his will. Her shoulders, just visible above the water's surface, shook with merriment. "Come on, Houjun; loosen up! You gotta admit, it's pretty funny; I mean, turnabout is fair play!"

He kept smiling but a line appeared between his brows. "Turnabout?"

"It's a story that maybe I'll tell you some day. Let's just say that you got even with me without even realizing it."

He relaxed, feeling her good humor disperse the tension--well, not all of the tension. Damn his recalcitrant body; why wouldn't it just give up? He felt stupid, standing nervously clutching a towel, but he could hardly walk away without it becoming obvious that he was…having difficulty walking. _Damn_ it!

Joss' voice floated across the water, filled with concern now that his smile had disappeared again. "Hey, Houjun, what's the matter? You're trembling… Oh, that's right!"

"What?" His voice was low and miserable. She was so blunt; would she actually confront him about his state of arousal?

"You must be freezing. Get in here right now!"

He flushed scarlet again. "You're not serious, are you? You can't possibly be suggesting that I--"

"Why not? Look, the water's all cloudy and bubbly. As long as we both stay beneath the water line, we should be able to retain a certain level of modesty."

Houjun clenched his jaw. What was it that made the gods mock him so badly? The thought of being with her in the spring, both of them naked - _Shikuso! _He swore that his body grew even harder. He couldn't move forward; neither could he leave. He was stupidly, helplessly frozen in place.

Joss' voice floated across the spring again, this time softer. "Ah, don't worry; I know that you're shy. Listen, what if I promise to turn my back, and I swear I won't turn around until you say it's all right?"

A glimmer of hope entered the darkness swirling around his brain. Maybe that would work. It was the opposite direction from where he wanted to go, but he could hardly ask her to turn around while he walked away fully clothed. That would be sure to provoke her endless curiosity. Maybe if he got into the spring, the hot water would discourage his…

"All right!" he agreed. "But you have to _promise_."

"Scout's honor, hope to die!" she swore mysteriously, crossing two fingers and spitting into the water. True to her word, she turned around.

Houjun didn't trust her sense of honor to hold out very long against her sense of fun, so he threw the towel aside and disrobed quickly, struggling a bit with his trousers. Oh, dear gods, what if she turned around _now?_ But her back remained turned, so he leapt towards the safety of the water, diving in, not caring if he was boiled alive.

"Shit!" shouted Joss as a wave of hot water crashed over her head. Houjun surfaced to see her pushing her dripping hair out of her eyes. "So you want a water fight, huh? Just remember: no mercy! I'm taking no prisoners, buddy!"

He opened his mouth to apologize and received a faceful of hot water. He coughed and sputtered, hearing Joss howl in laughter. Pushing his bangs out of his eyes, he fixed her with a malevolent glare. "So, no mercy, right? You forget that you're up against an evil magician, foolish woman!" He held his right hand up before his face, approaching her while muttering strange incantations. Joss continued to smirk at him, although she began to look a little worried.

He suddenly flung his right hand out to the side. Joss spun to follow the motion of his hand--and he reached out with his left hand, pushed down on her head and dunked her. She came up choking and spitting out water.

Houjun smirked at her. "Gotcha!"

****

"So in your world, this isn't unusual: a man and a woman sharing a hot spring together."

"Well, let's see…there aren't that many natural hot springs in my world. We have a type of man-made hot spring; we call it a hot tub or jacuzzi. There are ways of heating the water and making it bubble. Anyway, men and women do share it openly. They're very popular, especially at, er, inns, but generally people don't go naked in public. They wear tiny tight garments called "swimsuits" which would be considered indecent in this world, anyway; they barely cover the essentials and leave little to the imagination, especially thongs."

"Thongs?"

"Ah, stupid things: a swatch of material in the front and just a piece of string in the back. You really gotta have a perfect ass to wear one of those in public. Unfortunately, too many people don't realize this."

Houjun laughed out loud, looking up at the sky as the sun climbed higher, warming the morning air. He and Joss had romped and played in the water until they grew weary and over-heated, and now they were sprawled comfortably on the grassy bank of the spring, letting the steam rise off their towel-clad bodies.

He could hardly believe that he was so relaxed around Joss--around any woman, actually. But her casual friendliness and unselfconsciousness made him unselfconscious, too; it seemed ridiculous to behave like a blushing teenaged girl when _she_ was so natural and at ease. So here he was, lying half-naked next to her with his chin propped in one hand, laughing at her jokes as if the two of them were same-sex lifelong friends. His body, too, was now firmly under his mental control, especially since she made it easier by completely spurning any hint of coy femininity in favor of acting like a--what was her word again?--oh, yes, buddy.

He almost felt that he might've dreamed that earlier encounter, when she had appeared to him like a goddess of earthly desires. But even now, he could see the passion behind her flashing brown eyes, hear the sensual throatiness of her unrestrained laughter, feel the essential carnality of her being…. Damn, time to divert his thoughts again! He was grateful to hear her voice break in on his dangerous line of thought.

"So you keep asking me about my world, Houjun; what about yours? Let's say some village elders suddenly appeared at this spring and found us innocently sun-bathing like this. What would happen? Would they excuse themselves politely, or would we be looking at some serious prison time, floggings no extra charge?"

"Neither, really; the situation would be highly improper but not criminal. They would probably haul you off to your weeping parents and give me a good scolding. There would be no forced marriage, but…there's a true imbalance of justice. I would be secretly congratulated by my friends, while you would gain a reputation as a girl of…easy morals."

"Yeah, it was the same in my world up until the last few decades; still is that way in many places." Joss put the back of her hand up to her brow dramatically. "Alas, cruel fate! My bride-price has just fallen on the stock exchange!"

Houjun caught her meaning. "So if I were a man of ethics, I'd feel compelled to rescue you from a dismal future. I'd have to present to your parents a list of my worldly possessions, which right now consists of…" he felt around his bundle of clothes which lay next to him, "…this!"

Joss stared at the tube of toothpaste that he triumphantly brandished before her eyes. Her eyes crinkled up in amusement, and she clasped her hands together. "Oh, be still my heart! You mysterious man of hidden wealth! The village elders stand in awe, and my hypothetical parents cry out in joy, 'Sold! For the price of a tube of toothpaste, she is now yours! All sales final, no refunds, no returns.'"

Houjun laughed. "Actually, even this belongs to the Doctor. He sent me out here to give it to you."

Joss raised one eyebrow. "Oh, he did, did he? So that's how you ended up here so unexpectedly. That sly dog…" The last part was muttered under her breath. She leaned over and took the toothpaste from his hand. "Well, let's not waste such a generous gift. Time to brush our teeth, get dressed and head back to camp, before our oh-so-concerned friend and mentor sends the village elders out looking for us."

All these hygienic tasks were quickly carried out, and Joss and Houjun were soon on their way on the path through the woods. Houjun marveled at how at ease he and Joss were with one another. It was a marked change from their mutual panic and embarrassment earlier this morning. They chatted about insignificant things: the expected weather, what they hoped to find for breakfast. Finally they fell into a comfortable silence as they neared the campsite. A mischievous smile began playing around Joss' lips.

"Say, Houjun…"

"Mm-hm?"

"You know when you turned your hair dark?"

"Yes?"

"Well, you missed a spot."

He raised a hand self-consciously to his loose, still damp locks, frowning in confusion. Why didn't the Doctor tell him? Suddenly he focused on Joss' widely grinning countenance.

"Why, you little…!" He was gasping with a combination of outrage, embarrassment--and hilarity. She was absolutely unbelievable! "You are such a _liar!"_

"I am."

"You swore not to peek!"

"I had my fingers crossed."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm lying when I swear."

"You have no honor!"

"None."

"No sense of shame!"

"I had it surgically removed."

"How did you--? You had your back turned!"

She flashed a small hand mirror at him, hidden in her palm.

He was stunned. "I can't believe that you… I just… I've never…!"

"You're stuttering, Houjun. Have you ever heard of what causes stuttering--and what cures it?"

"Is there _nothing_ you won't say?" he howled in disbelief.

"Nope."

His voice dropped. "What did you see?"

She smiled a slow, wicked smile, enunciating each syllable with relish. "Ev-er-y-_thing_."

His voice grew even weaker. "Everything?"

"Don't try to hide it, Houjun. You like me--_a lot!"_

"That's it!" he roared, pushed beyond all reason. "You'll _pay_ for this, you…you…"

"Shameless hussy!" she finished, taking off at a run. "Promises, promises!"

He took off after her. "I'll catch you, and then--"

"What?" she called back over her shoulder.

"I'll turn you over my knee and spank the daylights out of you!"

"Doctor, Doctor!" she shrieked, running into camp. "Save me! Houjun's into kinky sex!"

"What are you _saying?"_ he shouted at her, caught between laughter and horror. He grabbed at her arm, but she feinted right and dodged him.

At that moment, the Doctor ducked out of the tent, grinning. "Had a nice time at the hot spring, children?"

Houjun froze guiltily for a moment, trying to think of an explanation for his actions, but saw that the Doctor was laughing openly, while Joss stuck out her tongue at him from behind the safety of the velvet coat. He couldn't help it; he burst out laughing along with them.

"Doctor, what have you gotten us into, picking up such a--"

"Shameless hussy," interjected Joss.

"I was going to say 'troublemaker'!"

"Oh, Houjun, you know that there's not a particle of harm in her."

Joss smirked and batted her eyes innocently.

"Oh, no? Well, next time, _you_ get to go to the hot spring with her, Doctor!"

"Utter nonsense! It's not as if she would…" He turned suddenly and caught Joss clasping her hands in a victory sign over his head. "You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Oh, no?" Joss mimicked Houjun. "I believe in equal treatment for _both_ my men, Doctor!"

"I am not one of _your men_," he huffed. "I really…it's inconceivable that…how could you dare to…?"

Houjun caught his eye and smirked. "You're stuttering, Doctor. And you know what they say causes stuttering." He walked past them into the tent.

The Doctor stood stock still in disbelief. "Did he just imply--?"

Joss laughed merrily. "I think the term is: he zinged you, Doctor!"

The Doctor gave up his struggle for control and laughed out loud. "It's a radical change from the young man who left here just over an hour ago. You seem to have worked a kind of magic, Joss."

"Oh, I don't think that we have any shortage of magicians in _this_ camp," she replied airily. She produced both tubes of his toothpaste from her satchel. "Funny how you seemed to think that I needed _two_ whole tubes of toothpaste this morning, Doctor. Not exactly flattering."

"Well, I…"

"And since I brushed my teeth _twice_ this morning--I get to do this!" She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Doctor," she whispered into the chestnut waves. "You old romantic goop!"

****

Houjun mused contentedly, listening to leather creak as his horse picked its way up the sloping dirt path. He smelled fresh greenery and the sweet, dusty scent of the horses, heard the insistent call of hungry baby birds high above, felt the soft, warm breeze lift his bangs. He could feel the even warmer pressure of Joss' head leaning against his back as she dozed, her arms looped loosely around his waist. A wave of happiness swept over him, and he fought to keep from laughing aloud in sheer joy, not wanting to wake her. Up ahead, the Doctor turned in his saddle, smiling back at him, sharing in the magic of this halcyon day.

Could anyone ask for a better life? Living in the open air, traveling to new and exciting places, sharing the company of close friends. Close friends--and maybe something more. There was a warm, happy glow in his heart now when he thought of Joss, something that grew a little stronger each day. She'd done something to him over the past few days, freeing some part of his soul that he'd never realized existed. He felt accepted, almost embraced by her--even his sexuality, which had caused him so much embarrassment two days ago. To her, it was just a part of him, and she made him laugh about it. She made him be _himself_, free of any of the restrictions and expectations society imposed upon young men and women. He had never felt so free in his life; it was as if he, the Doctor and Joss made up their own little society in which judgment and criticism was suspended, and joy and sensuality embraced.

Not that he and Joss--no, it was a little too soon for them. But the _possibility_ existed, and what more could he ask for than a world full of possibilities? He didn't need to pin down their relationship, to analyze it or categorize it. In fact, he almost feared looking too directly at it; it was too new, too fragile, this thing called happiness.

In the same way, he'd just accepted the Doctor steering them on their travels, not feeling any need to question their mission or motives. They had put aside their nomadic disguises for the past two days, since they hadn't encountered anyone on their mountain trek. The Doctor seemed happier now that he was back in his velvet coat. He was always bringing forth amazing objects from the coat's seemingly bottomless pockets: strange toys, odd books, snacks. In fact, the Doctor was fishing around in his pocket right now. Houjun craned his neck to see what the Doctor was holding--oh, the mirror that Taiitsukun had given him.

Unexpectedly, something changed, and the Doctor abruptly pulled up his horse. Houjun reacted to the tension in the air, pulling up his own horse and waking Joss. The Doctor was frowning at the mirror, shaking it intermittently.

"What's wrong, Doctor?"

"This mirror--the mountain and fire kanji--they've started flickering, almost as if they're going out!"

Suddenly the Doctor stiffened, his eyes going dark and distant. He seemed caught in a trance or some strange silent communication with an unseen entity. The air thickened, a scent of ozone wafting out of nowhere. In an instant, the Doctor snapped out of the trance, letting out a curse in some unknown language. "Come on, Houjun; we've got to hurry!" He spurred his horse up the steep path, kicking it into a full gallop.

"Hang on," Houjun instructed Joss, digging his heels into his own horse so that it leapt after the Doctor. Joss locked her arms around Houjun's waist, letting the lead rein for their pack horse drop away from them. She, too, was caught up in the sense of panic that seized them, "Too late, _too late,_ TOO LATE!" shrieking in her brain.

They followed the dust that the Doctor's mount had kicked up as he plunged down the other slope of the rise, towards the dark green waters of a mountain lake rippling in the afternoon sunlight. Several figures were gathered on the near shore, staring out at the water. They looked up as they heard the horses pound down the slope. Suddenly three of the figures-- teenaged boys--took off running, drops of water catching the light as they flew from their sodden clothes. They disappeared into the woods, leaving one last figure still frozen in place. It was a girl of about Sachiko's age, her hands held up to her mouth and her dark eyes wide in horror as she stared at the lake's surface.

The Doctor leaped off his horse and ran up to her, Houjun and Joss following close behind. "What happened? Where is he?"

The girl shook her head. "Not my fault! They _made_ me--it's not my fault!" She began to cry, refusing to say anything else.

The Doctor turned from her in aggravation, pulling off his boots and throwing off his velvet coat. He tugged at his cravat, anxiously scanning the surface of the lake for telltale ripples. "Houjun, I can't pick up his ki! Can you--?"

Houjun ran up, pulling off his shirt, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "There's definitely someone out there, but his ki is fading fast. I need to know where to focus, Doctor!"

Joss lost it. She strode up to the snivelling, whimpering girl and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and slapping her across the face. "Listen, you little bitch; you'd better talk now, if you want to keep your teeth! Now tell us where you last saw him!"

The girl went silent in shock, the print of Joss' hand red on her face. Her face crumpled, and she started to snivel again, but Joss yanked hard on her hair.

"Joss," hissed the Doctor.

"We don't have time for this bullshit! Now talk, or else the next thing you feel is gonna be my fist!"

The girl wailed, pointing at an area just right of the center of the lake. "They dragged him out there! He went down near that tree! He was supposed to come up again, but--"

Houjun narrowed his eyes, focusing on the area near a dead tree sticking partially out of the water, its bare trunk and skeletal branches clawing at the sky. "There!" he shouted in triumph. He locked gazes with the Doctor, mentally sending the location. "Got it?"

"Let's go!" The Doctor dashed towards the lake, plunging in, Houjun close on his heels.

Joss watched anxiously as they swam furiously towards the center of the lake. "At least one minute already." Her words came out tightly between gritted teeth. "Unless the water's cold enough to induce hypothermia, we only have at most one more minute--Come _on!"_ she prayed, watching them take turns diving below the surface. She saw Houjun take a big gulp of air, dive down again, and…and…not come back up.

The Doctor suddenly dove down after him, the water rippling in his wake. Joss watched the ripples grow wider and slower, the lake calming after the disappearance of the two intruders. Joss grasped her head in frustration, releasing the girl.

The girl began crying again. "This wasn't supposed to happen! We overheard his sister telling Okaa-san that he didn't know how to swim, and Taro thought it would be funny if… Taro _made_ me trick him into coming out here! He and his friends grabbed him and threw him into the lake twice, but the third time, he didn't come up! Taro was supposed to pull him out again, but he and his friends just ran off. They _left_ me here!"

"Shut up!" Joss was infuriated. "You have no right to feel sorry for yourself! You're just as guilty…" Her words trailed off as Houjun and the Doctor burst into view again, carrying a small bundle between them. "Oh, thank _God,_ thank Suzaku!" She watched as they pulled doggedly for the shore, their movements determined but slowing through weariness. "Come on, come on, _come on!"_ Joss thought her heart was going to smash through her chest.

They finally reached shore, Joss running down into the water to help pull the small bundle out. They set him down rapidly on the first area of dry land, turning him over. "Oh _Christ!"_ Joss burst out, tears running down her face. He was so small, with thin, spindly limbs; he couldn't be more than eleven years old! Dark russet hair was plastered to his forehead, his skin bluish from hypoxia. "Those bastards tried to drown a little _kid!_ God _damn_ them! God damn them to _hell!"_

The Doctor ignored her, turning the child's head to one side. "Okay, Houjun, I need your help. Crash course in resuscitation. Press down on his chest firmly but not hard enough to break ribs. Now!" Houjun pressed down as ordered. Water burst from the child's mouth, but there was no other response, no indrawn breath. The Doctor pinched the child's nose shut and blew air into his mouth. "Again, Houjun!" They repeated the process until there was no more water flowing from the boy's mouth, yet he remained quietly, utterly still.

The girl wandered up, drawn by curiosity, and stopped at the sight of the child's bluish skin, his sprawled limbs. "He's dead!" she screamed. "Oh, Suzaku, he's _dead!"_ She ran shrieking toward the woods.

"Good riddance," growled Joss, while the Doctor pressed his ear to the child' s chest. "Okay, Joss, I need you now. Are you certified?"

"You bet!" Joss gently pushed Houjun aside, taking his place. "Now watch, Houjun." She placed one hand on top of the other and pumped his chest over his heart. "One, two, three, four, five…" The Doctor bent and blew into his mouth at the end of each series. Houjun hovered anxiously, watching as the Doctor listened for a heartbeat. They continued the cycles, the Doctor listening, listening… Finally he held up a hand to stop Joss as he slumped in defeat.

"Wait, Doctor!" Houjun's voice was urgent. "There's still something there: not much, but he's not gone yet. Let me try!" Houjun drew himself up and pulled together all his strength, all of his ki. He had never tried this before, but… He sent his ki out towards the small child, seeking, questing--there! So weak, yet something seemed _powerful_. A fighting spirit, nearly extinguished, yet stubbornly clinging to life against all odds. Houjun mentally visualized reaching a hand out to that ki...and jolted in shock when it seized him, grabbing onto him fiercely. There was an overwhelming sense of _connection_, almost of recognition, as if they were two parts of some greater whole. The child's life force pulled at him, drawing greedily on his strength, and Houjun gave him all he could, coaxing him back to the physical plane. He felt the child following him, trusting him, but he himself was weakening under the strain, fighting to retain his own consciousness. He tried to hold on, but it was too late. He was falling, falling…

****

Darkness all around him…but he could sense light flickering behind his eyelids. The smell of woodsmoke, the crackling of the flames…ah, home. He opened his eyes to see--

Her. She was smiling at him, her skin burnished by the soft glow of firelight, the flames bringing out the highlights in her gleaming hair. She gently held a blanketed bundle in her arms, caressing long, wispy red-gold locks with maternal solicitude. He suddenly knew that this was how she would look as a mother: warm, tender, almost sleepy with contentment. He felt something in his chest tighten, some unspoken desire rise in his breast. What would it be like, to have her as a safe harbor in his storm-tossed life? What would it be like, to watch her by firelight each night as she held not some lost waif, but her own child…his own child? Could there possibly be a future so warm, so bright and full of promise?

She smiled wider, as if reading his thoughts. "How are you feeling?"

Her husky tones caressed him, made him stretch in pleasure. "Good," he murmured. "Very, very good."

Her teeth gleamed as she laughed. "So you should, Master Magician. Come here and look; you saved him."

Houjun rose to his feet, walking over to peer down at the child in her arms. What a difference! The boy's hair had dried, changing from the deep russet of its drenched state to a light red-gold, the same color as the flames that danced before them. The bluish tint had left his skin, which now showed its natural golden shade, darker than he expected in such a light-haired child. Joss ran a caressing finger along the lines of the heart-shaped, elfin face: wide near the forehead and cheekbones, tapering to a sharp, pointed chin. He had a distinctive, prominent, pointy nose, that suddenly wrinkled.

Joss laughed softly, sharing her sense of wonder with Houjun. "Look, he's starting to wake up at last," she whispered. "So innocent." She touched a finger near the child's long dark eyelashes. "I can't wait until he talks! He's as pretty as a girl…so sweet…"

Suddenly the dark eyelashes lifted, revealing slanted amber eyes flecked with gold. A high-pitched voice rang out in annoyance.

"I ain't no fuckin' girl! And take your hands off me, ya goddamn pervert!"

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Shikuso! - Shit!

*

**Author's note: (3-3-03 -** Ooh! Cool date!Shun'u has arrived! Hurray! (Joss: Oh, yeah, whoopee…) My favorite foul-mouthed little punk is here at last, signifying that we are more than halfway through this fic; more like two-thirds!

Of course, this is a change from what I'd promised last week, but that's the way my stories work: they drag me the way they want to go, no matter what I plan in advance. I can only follow meekly, just taking dictation from my muse.

Kryssa: (sarcastic) Oh, is _that_ where the first three sections of this chapter came from? You, of course, didn't have _anything_ to do with the highly, ahem, interesting subject matter.

Roku: (smirking) Wellll, it _is_ my favorite subject in all the world: male sexuality! In fact, let me tell you a funny story…

Kryssa: That's enough, Roku!

All right, all right. Back to Shun'u. Now, before you jump on me about canon inconsistencies about his age, let me clarify that I didn't say that he _was_ eleven years old; I said that Joss thought that he _looked_ like an eleven-year-old. And he does, although he is thirteen. He is, shall we say, a late-bloomer; his voice hasn't even changed yet. This is consistent with Yuu Watase's canon description of him in Genrou Den at age fifteen as being small for his age--many thanks to Tasuki no Miko for her painstaking online translation of that novel.

By the way, congratulations to Jack of the Pelt for catching all the obscure canon Doctor Who references in Chapter 9. I have one more for you in this chapter, Jack; see if you can find it! By the way, where's that story you've been promising me? I've been looking for it on all week!

Well, I'm done making promises for future events in this story until my muse solidifies this plot a bit more. But as for my future posting plans: the next thing up will be an odd interlude in "Casting Stones," followed by either another chapter of "Bridge" or, if I EVER get to that dance club, to the long-awaited Chapter 4 of "Hidden Paths!"

Ja ne!

Roku-_hentai_-mind


	11. The price of a life

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 11. The Price of a Life

"Yeah, well, if yer not a low-life perv, then where the fuck are my clothes?"

"Soaking wet in a bundle over there, you little punk! We undressed you to try to get you warmed up!"

"Hah! Yer pro'bly a buncha goddamn slavers takin' a look at the goods--"

"Goods? There isn't enough to you to make selling you worth the trouble! If we were slavers, _which _we're_ not_, it would be stupid for us to try to make any money off a scrawny little shit like you."

"Hey, I never said that ya looked smart, did I? 'Specially those two yokels over there, wastin' their time on an old maid like you!"

"That's _it!"_

Joss lunged at the taunting boy across the campfire. He evaded her with an unexpected flash of speed, dancing easily out of her reach while holding the blanket around him. He laughed at the three adults, revealing small pointed fangs in his mocking grin.

"Hah! Yer all a buncha losers! You'll never touch me, 'specially since yer too old and too slow! No one can _ever_ catch me, 'cause I'm th' fastest--_Yipe!_" The boy shrieked in surprise as a hand came down heavily on his bare shoulder.

The Doctor looked serenely down at his captive, now struggling within his firm grasp. "Now that you've succeeded in insulting every last one of us who played a part in saving your life, perhaps you would be willing to answer a few questions. Your name, for one--and the location of your home, so that we may return you to the bosom of your loving family."

The boy stopped struggling as he realized the futility of trying to break free from the iron grip of the deceptively slight-looking man. His amber eyes turned away shiftily. "Maybe I don't feel like tellin' ya. Maybe I don't feel like goin' back to a place where there's too goddamn many bosoms, if ya ask me!"

Joss rolled her eyes in aggravation. "So what do you think you're going to do: stay out here in the woods by yourself? It's not safe for a little kid like you!"

"I ain't no little kid! I'm a man full-grown--went through the rites of manhood just over a month ago!"

Joss' complexion took on a greenish hue. She looked helplessly at her two companions. "He can't possibly mean--!"

"No, no, no, no, no," the Doctor sought to reassure her. "I'm sure he's referring to some ceremonial acknowledgment of his age, right, Houjun?" Now that the boy had stopped fighting, the Doctor released him and rejoined his companions.

"That's the most likely explanation--although there are some rather backward villages where they feel the need of a more, er, _physical_ rite of passage."

"Oh, God!" Joss was gagging.

The boy was confused. "What's with her?"

"Nothing." Houjun smiled reassuringly at the boy. "Something she ate earlier, perhaps."

The boy squinted at Joss. "Yeah; she don't look like she's too picky 'bout what she eats."

"Listen, you smartass little punk, I'll show you--mmph!" The Doctor placed a hand over Joss' mouth, nodding at Houjun to continue his conversation with the boy. For some reason, the fiery child seemed to trust Houjun, meeting his gaze directly instead of glancing away.

Houjun rubbed his temple briefly, feeling the hostile energy sparking between Joss and the boy. There was something about each combatant that seemed to feed the antagonistic tendencies of the other--oh. There it was. He covered a sudden snort of laughter with a cough. He could read it in their ki: an uncanny resemblance to one another in personality and attitude. Of course, Joss was more refined in her pronouncements, but then again, he could only imagine what she'd been like at age thirteen.

Ah. Thirteen.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the boy. "So, since you're a man already, you must be at least thirteen years old, right?"

"Uh-huh. But a lotta the time, people think I'm fifteen or sixteen." The boy puffed out his tiny, concave chest.

"Oh yeah," muttered Joss, released from the Doctor's restraint. "Blind people, deranged people--" The Doctor shot a warning glance in her direction.

Houjun continued with his subtle flattery. "You're obviously very quick. I would guess that you win a lot of races in your home village."

The boy grinned. "Yep! In fact, that's what pissed off Taro and his asshole friends so bad: I always beat them at both th' harvest and spring planting festivals. They're too fuckin' slow!" His expression darkened. "They never woulda caught me if I hadn't been tricked by that Kazue. She said that she had somethin' ta show me, an' the next thing I know, _boom! _Assholes everywhere!"

"Something to show him, huh? Maybe he really is near puberty, the little perv," murmured Joss to herself. She raised her voice. "So what did she say she'd show you, Red?"

The boy scowled at Joss, unexpectedly picking up her meaning. "I ain't interested in girl shit, if that's what yer smirkin' 'bout. Been livin' with too fuckin' many girls all my life, an' there ain't nothin' I ain't seen already--and wish I hadn't!" he finished fervently. "But if ya gotta know, Kazue said that she found a big dead snake: the biggest one she ever seen, but she was scared ta touch it, 'cause it smelled so bad. So I figured I'd take a look. Shoulda known she was talkin' 'bout her brother!"

"Ah, yes," murmured the Doctor. "Decomposing reptilian life-forms. Of eternal fascination to boys across the galaxy, except those from reptilian ancestry, in which case they prefer decomposing mammals."

The boy leaned in towards Houjun, indicating the Doctor with a jerk of his chin. "Where'd ya pick up the weirdo?"

Houjun suppressed a smile, equally befuddled by the Doctor's cryptic statements. "As a matter of fact, the Doctor picked _us _up, and we've been traveling together, all the way from the Imperial City of Eiyou to your village of--"

"Tai… wait a minute! You ain't foolin' me inta tellin' you where I live!" The boy's jaw jutted out belligerently.

Joss lost what little patience she had. "So I asked you this before: what do you think you're going to do if you don't go home? Just stay out here in the woods by yourself? What if you run into some _real_ slavers? They'll snatch you up right away, thinking that you're some little girl or something!"

"QUIT CALLIN' ME A GIRL!" The boy exploded in rage, startling them with his furious reaction. His high-pitched shrieks could have shattered glass. "I _toldja_ before--I _ain't_ no FUCKIN' _GIRL! __SEE?"_ In a gesture of unbridled fury, he flung off the blanket.

There was a moment of complete silence, broken by a strangled sound coming from Joss' throat. Houjun moved a few steps until he was even with her. "Don't laugh," he muttered very softly between gritted teeth. "If you laugh, you will scar him for life, so Don't. Laugh."

"I know that!" hissed Joss in an undertone. "I was only going to remark that the Puberty Train obviously hasn't pulled into his station yet. At least, let's _hope_ it hasn't!"

The Doctor took control of the situation, his calm authoritarian tones dispelling the tension. "Young man, you will pick up that blanket and cover yourself immediately. You should know that no gentleman exposes himself before a lady."

"I ain't pretendin' ta be no gentleman," grumbled the boy, but he obeyed the Doctor swiftly, his face scarlet with embarrassment now that his fit of rage had passed. "An' I don't see no ladies here, either," he muttered defensively.

Joss began to bristle again, but the Doctor maintained control with a warning glance at her. "Young man, let me introduce you to Lady Josselin of the Imperial Court of Konan, favored _personal_ friend of Emperor Saihitei Seishuku. I will caution you that the Emperor will not be pleased with anyone who chooses to insult the Lady Joss."

The boy went from scarlet to white. "I di'nt mean ta insult no one," he sulked. "Jus' don't like girls, that's all. They lie and cheat and don't play fair, jus' like Kazue and my sisters and every other girl I ever met!"

"Then you will be pleasantly surprised by the Lady Joss." Houjun's voice was calm and soothing. "She is one of the most honest, straightforward people that it has ever been my pleasure to meet."

Joss blushed at Houjun's praise, while the boy looked at her again with an appraising glance, once more mysteriously trusting the young magician. "All right, guess I can put up with her, if she's really like you say. Figured that I hadda, anyway, once we leave in th' morning."

Joss choked. "What makes you think that you're coming with us, you little shit?"

"Can't leave me alone in th' woods, ya said so yourself! And ya can't stop me from followin' ya, 'cause I'm the fastest--"

"I can stop you if I tie your scrawny little ass to a tree!"

"Yeah, go ahead and do that. The wolves'd like that a lot. If ya wanted ta kill me, ya shoulda jus' let me drown!"

_"Damn_ it!" snarled Joss, stymied by the boy's logic.

The Doctor stroked his lip thoughtfully. "You're taking a rather large risk by joining up with us. How do you know where we're going, or whether you'll find what you want there--or even if we're trustworthy? Before I allow you to accompany us, you'll have to provide me with some explanation for your motivation." The blue eyes took on a greenish tint as the Doctor stared at their young guest. "No lies, of course," he warned softly.

The boy stared boldly back. "I don' hafta lie. Th' reason I wanna go with ya is simple. I don' want Taro and his asshole friends tryin' ta drown me again. This is th' way I figure it: since Kazue nor Taro nor anybody in my family ain't standin' here, I'm guessin' those chickenshits ran off before you guys saved me, right?" He continued at the Doctor's brief nod. "So as far as those assholes know, I'm dead. Now, I know that dimwit Kazue can't keep a secret ta save her own skin, so she prob'ly started wailin' an' cryin' 'bout what happened soon as my sisters started lookin' for me. Right now, I figure Taro and his asshole friends are in serious shit, which is where I want them ta stay for awhile! If I come strollin' back inta th' village tomorrow mornin,' Taro gets off the hook, but he's jus' big and dumb enough ta try it again, 'specially since he'll be pissed now. But if I disappear for a good, long time, that asshole will get what's comin' ta him, an' maybe it'll sink inta his thick skull that gettin' a rep as a murderous son-of-a-bitch ain't th' best thing ta have. So when I finally _do_ return, he'll be ready ta kiss my ass in gratitude--an' believe me, I'm gonna make him pay!" The amber eyes suddenly glowed with a cold, vengeful light.

Joss repressed an unexpected shiver. As comical as it seemed on the surface to listen to this little boy promise vengeance, she suddenly had the feeling it wasn't wise to provoke his wrath. There seemed to be a lot more to him than met the eye. For one thing, his reasoning was flawless, showing a quicker mind than his hot temper and unrefined language initially indicated.

The Doctor seemed equally impressed with the boy's logic, but it was Houjun who spoke first. "But what about your family and the pain they'll suffer if they think you've died? Doesn't that matter to you?"

The boy snorted in contempt. "They ain't gonna care! All they'll be mad about is that they're missin' another pair of hands ta work th' fields. 'Course, that's enough for my sister ta get a case of the red-ass, an' I'm hopin' she'll take it out on that asshole Taro, since for once she can't take it out on me!"

The Doctor sighed. "Since your mind is obviously set on accompanying us, and we can't abandon you without endangering you, we may as well settle in for the night. I want to get an early start tomorrow before dawn; we're behind schedule as it is. Joss, would you mind looking through your things and picking out some, er, unisex clothes that you can loan young, er..."

The boy and Joss started protesting, but the Doctor silenced them both with a hard look. "Joss, you're the nearest one to him in both height and weight, so your clothes will require the least adjustment to fit him. Young man--first of all, I've grown weary of calling you that. Your given name, please."

The boy opened his mouth as if to make an insolent retort, registered the look in the Doctor's eyes, and decided to comply. "Shun'u," he muttered sullenly.

"And your family name?"

"Uh-uh. You don' need ta know that. Ya think I'm stupid or somethin'? Tellin' you my family name is as good as tellin' you where I live. Forget it!"

"Master Shun'u, we obviously need to correct severe deficiencies in your style of address to your elders, most glaringly in the area of respect--"

As the Doctor and Shun'u continued to argue, Joss quietly walked away to the tent. She returned shortly with a bundle of clothes and set it down by the fire, then turned and disappeared into the woods. A pair of mystical light-brown eyes anxiously followed her form as it faded into the darkness.

****

Joss stomped through the woods, muttering to herself and occasionally tripping over random tree roots. She hoped that her developing proficiency in navigating through natural landscapes in little or no light would lead her back to the tiny spring from which she had drawn fresh water after she and the Doctor had set up camp around their unconscious charges.

Her luck was definitely out. She became disoriented, tried to backtrack, and ended up falling over a particularly large and gnarled root. She cursed as fluently as their new young charge, pausing only for breath and to suck on scraped knuckles.

Strong hands came out of the darkness and lifted her firmly but gently to her feet. "What happened, Joss? Why are you out here in the darkness all alone?" His gentle tones soothed her, making her suddenly ashamed at her bad temper.

"Ah, I'm just looking for a spring I used earlier, hoping to clean up for bed."

"This spring?"

In the dim moonlight, Joss followed Houjun's pointing hand to see the shimmer of water not five feet from where she had fallen. She was glad that the dim light hid her blush. "Yeah, that'd be it. That's me, Josselin, the Intrepid Explorer: can find anything once she actually falls into it!"

Houjun laughed, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Well, I'm grateful for your expertise, Madam Explorer! I was hoping to rinse this brackish lake water out of my hair. May I borrow your cup?"

He removed his shirt and they bent over the spring, passing the cup back and forth as they tended to their ablutions. Joss savored the feeling of easy intimacy between them. _'Better enjoy this for the last time,'_ she mused glumly.

Finally Houjun cleared his throat, squeezing the water from his hair as he watched Joss struggle to find her toothbrush in her small pack. "You're very quiet this evening. Won't you tell me what's troubling you?"

Joss considered a light and evasive reply, but her essential honesty coupled with a sense of aggravation won out. "It's this kid, this little brat! Why do we have to take him with us, anyway? Everything was so perfect, and now--"

"Perfect?"

"Yes! It was just you and me…" Joss flushed, realizing what she was saying, "…and the Doctor!" she stammered, trying to cover her blunder. "We all got along so well, and things were just getting even better, and--" She stopped as Houjun startled her by laughing out loud. "Guess I sound pretty stupid, huh?"

"No, I wasn't laughing at you…well, not exactly. I was laughing because you sounded just like I did when the Doctor asked you to join us. I, too, didn't want to disturb the dynamics of a relationship that I was just getting accustomed to."

"Oh." Joss' voice was very small. "I guess I never realized that you resented me."

"Resent_ed, _Joss: the past tense is very important. I was unsure of the strength of my friendship with the Doctor, and I didn't want anyone coming between us. I was jealous; it's as simple as that. But I decided to try to rise above that jealousy, and now…now I've found a friend who is every bit as important to me as the Doctor is." Houjun's voice trailed off in the sudden pregnant silence.

Joss leaned towards Houjun, trying to catch his gaze in the dimness of the moonlight. He, too, leaned forward, and she held her breath, waiting…hoping…

Suddenly a branch creaked loudly nearby, and they jumped apart, laughing self-consciously at their startlement. All the same, Joss repressed a sigh, feeling another moment lost. Her sense of affliction returned, and she resumed rummaging for her toothbrush to try to hide her disappointment. "The thing that gets me is that I've got a really strong feeling that little Shun'u is gonna be a bunch of trouble. I mean, just listen to the mouth on him! I'm not saying it's right, but I'm beginning to understand the motivation of the kids that wanted to drown him. I wouldn't be surprised if half his village was lined up to have a crack at him!"

There was a choked sound nearby. Houjun leapt forward and grabbed at the darkness. He dragged Shun'u out into the open, now clad in a set of Joss's tunic and trousers that hung baggily on his thin form. Shun'u pulled back, but his struggles were fruitless.

Joss was thoroughly pissed off. "What did you think you were you doing spying on us, you little shit? And how did you get here so quickly?"

The boy wiped at his eyes defensively, his usually high-pitched tones low with resentment. "I wasn't spyin' on you. The Doctor sent me here to get cleaned up and to give this to you." He held out a tube of toothpaste, his head bowed so that his bangs hid his eyes. But Joss and Houjun both saw a sparkling drop fall to the moonlit ground.

Joss felt her heart drop. She cringed internally as she recalled her words about Shun'u--words that the boy had obviously overheard. Damn her quick temper! The boy had been through so much today and, if his words were true, for most of his young life. So what did the Great and Compassionate Josselin do? Just added to the grief the poor kid had to deal with.

Houjun began to speak. "Shun'u, I'm sorry--"

Joss interrupted. "No, I'm the one that needs to apologize. Shun'u, I'm really sorry. I had no right to say that shit about you." Her honesty came to the fore once again. "I guess I was just mad at you for all the things you said about me that hurt _my_ feelings--and I was also jealous, because I didn't want to share Houjun's or the Doctor's attention with anyone new. But I'm not making excuses for myself. It was still wrong for me to say the things I said, and I'm sorry I made you cry."

The boy pulled away from Houjun's compassionate grip. "I ain't fuckin' cryin'!" he protested in a choked voice as he scrubbed at his eyes. "Just got hit in the face with a branch, that's all. No _baka_ girl is ever gonna make _me_ cry!"

Houjun opened his mouth to avert the impending argument, but Joss beat him to the punch. He listened in amazement to her soft and compassionate tones.

"No, of course you're not crying. My mistake; I guess I got confused in the darkness. So, since I didn't hurt your feelings after all, do you suppose we could start over and try to be friends? After all, we _are_ going to be travel companions and tentmates."

The amber eyes, glowing strangely in the dim moonlight, narrowed for a moment as Shun'u considered her offer. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders in an abrupt motion and kicked at the ground. "All right," he mumbled grudgingly. "Never knew a girl who didn't doublecross or backstab me, but I guess I'll letcha have a chance." His mood seemed to brighten. "Besides, ya ain't 'xactly a girl anymore, anyway."

Joss drew in a controlled breath and forced a smile through gritted teeth. "I'll just take that as a compliment to my essential womanliness and leave it at that. So let's shake on it, okay?"

Shun'u stared in confusion at her proffered hand, then glanced at Houjun. Houjun pantomimed a handshake and nodded at the boy. Shun'u shrugged again, sniffled and dragged a hand across his runny nose, then took Joss' hand in a firm grip. Joss' smile remained fixed around clenched teeth as she tried to separate her hand from the damp and gummy grip of the boy.

"Okay…um, now that this is settled, why don't we all just wash our hands and faces once again?"

****

The morning sun still hovered beneath the line of the trees when the figure of a young woman left the shelter of the woods to stand beside the mountain lake. She looked to be in her late teens; her refined features, slender figure and luxuriant deep red hair were arresting enough to have her judged as beautiful by the most discriminatory of men…until one approached closer and looked into her moody brown eyes. Dissatisfaction and frustration hardened the line of her curved lips, stealing the luster of her youth and leaving in its place a vaguely forbidding air more suitable to an embittered old woman than to one in the full blush of young womanhood.

She looked around with a distracted air, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers to her breast as she stared uncomprehendingly at the signs of some past disturbance on the banks of the lake: dirt churned up, footprints and hoofprints leading off towards the other side of the mountain. Standing attentively, she heard only the trill of birdsong and the rustle of small animals in the brush. Satisfied that she was completely alone, she relaxed her tense expression, letting her melancholy and grief reveal themselves in the slump of her shoulders and the trembling of her lips.

She stared out at the murky green waters of the lake, watching the morning mists rise and twist into indistinct shapes in the gentle breeze. They taunted her, swirling into little sprite-like figures that seemed to dance mockingly before her eyes before dissipating in the next waft of cool morning air. Tears filled her eyes, and she stumbled closer to the water's edge, staring down into the green-brown depths. She threw one flower into the water--then another, and another, faster and faster, her breaths increasing in tempo and intensity until she was sobbing harshly. Finally she tore the bouquet apart and pitched the remainder into the water, the flowers separating as they disappeared into the mist. One last flower remained floating on the water's surface, its pale amber petals spinning lazily in a tiny swirl of current. Finally, the lake claimed that last blossom as well, pulling it to swirl beneath the surface until it was lost in the cloudy depths.

The girl caught her breath and clutched at her heart, sinking to her knees in the grass and mud. "Shun'u!" she wept, heedless of the ruin of her fine linen dress. "Otouto…" The familial hot temper rose, mixing anger in with her grief. "Damn you, Shun'u! Damn you--and damn me, too!" At that, she collapsed completely, wrapping her arms around herself and weeping bitterly.

****

Twenty-four hours later, another young woman employed the same curse in a slightly different way. "Damn you, Shun'u," muttered Joss under her breath, watching the boy chat animatedly with Houjun after usurping her usual place mounted behind him. It wasn't this last action that had her so put out; after all, he'd done considerably more aggravating things in the two days they'd been traveling together. It was the fact that, true to her fears, the whole dynamic of the little band of travelers had shifted upon Shun'u's entry into the group.

It was similar to the life change that occurred when a happily married couple suddenly produced a child. Life became divided into "Before Baby" and "After Baby." Joss thought wistfully of life "Before Shun'u": quiet chats around the fire, cozy snuggling next to Houjun each night, the Doctor's benevolent and discreet chaperonage giving her the chance to get a little closer to Houjun each passing day. Now life centered around a noisy child who demanded information and reasons for their every move, whose every spoken word was more often shouted than not, who sprawled happily between Joss and Houjun every night, shoving a foot into the small of Joss' back each morning while snoring contentedly--Yeah, Life Before Shun'u had acquired the rosy glow of retrospective nirvana.

Joss propped her chin against the Doctor's velvet clad shoulder and sighed. "How do you do it, Doctor? How do you maintain your temper and your patience when that little shit spends half an hour questioning you about something, then blows you off with a 'Nah, I don't think that's the way it works!'"

She couldn't see the Doctor's expression, only the golden brown curls of his soft and strangely-scented hair as he swayed in the saddle before her, but she could sense waves of amusement wafting from him.

"I survived Ace; I can survive Shun'u," he replied cryptically.

"That's the second time I've heard you mention Ace. I take it that she was a memorable companion; was she a Shun'u type?" Joss pursued the line of questioning to distract her from her growing annoyance with Houjun's apparent preference for Shun'u's company over hers.

"Oh, yes; in truth, she could teach Shun'u about three dozen tricks we will never want him to learn. When we'd first encountered one another, she was a rebellious teenager from London, caught up in a time wind and blown to a far-distant ice planet. Ace wasn't terribly traumatized by that bizarre event; in fact, she had adjusted quite well to her new world. She was full of bravado and precociously talented in chemistry, specifically in the manufacture of a homemade explosive she called nitro-nine. It was highly volatile, yet she liked to carry it around in her pack, stowed in shaving cream cans." The Doctor frowned at Shun'u, now kneeling on the saddle behind Houjun and gesturing excitedly at something in the trees. "I shudder to think of Shun'u with an incendiary device in his hands."

"What happened to her? Did she blow herself up?"

"Oh, no, thank goodness, it never came to that. We were companions on and off for many years, sometimes close, sometimes…not. But it turned out all right in the end. She's somewhere out there right now, fighting injustice on some far distant planet, probably riding a motorcycle while clad in an eighteenth-century ballgown and Doc Martens."

Joss whistled in admiration. "She sounds like one hell of a woman, the sort you'd like to have by your side in a fight. She sounds fun to talk to, as well."

"Yes, she definitely was adept in covering my back. In fact, you remind me of her, Joss; she's also honest, with a keen sense of honor."

Joss blushed in pleasure. "Boy, that's the second compliment I've gotten in the last few days from one of my men. You two are gonna make my head swell up till I become a danger to myself! Now if I can only get the newest member of my harem to stop insulting me, I'll be living a life of complacent narcissism."

The Doctor laughed. "Number One, the compliment is fairly earned; Number Two, if you consider Shun'u a member of your harem, you have deeper problems than even I can help you with; and Number Three, I am not one of your men!"

"Oh yes, you are." Joss was suddenly filled with affection for the Doctor, and she leaned her cheek against his back while tightening her arms around his waist. "Now that we're close friends, I'm going to fuss at you and flirt with you and worry about you just like you belonged to me, because I'm a possessive little wench and as far as I'm concerned, you do--and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"

She was rewarded with another burst of laughter from the Doctor. "To be completely truthful, I tend to regard my companions in the same way, minus the flirting, of course."

"Aw, c'mon, that's the fun part! Now _I _know that you're not really from England--_or_ Konan _or_ Earth for that matter--so why bother to keep the stiff upper lip?"

"Oh, Joss, you have no idea what my fellow Gallifreyans are like. They make the British royals--and I'm referring to the _real_ royals, not those they married--look like a bunch of lampshade-wearing table dancers."

"Gallifrey, eh?" Joss was openly sympathetic. "So they've got yardsticks shoved so far up their asses that they're pickin' splinters outta their back teeth, huh?"

"Crudely yet accurately put. Although to be fair, I should specify not all Gallifreyans are like that, but your description fits the time lords in general and the High Council in particular."

"So how did such a cuckoo like you hatch from their nest?"

"That's a question I'm certain is debated in the cloistered chambers of the High Council to this day. Although as far as renegades go, I'm neither the first nor the worst, not in my humble opinion, anyway. The more restrictive the society, the more inevitable it is that at least a few members will rebel against those tenets."

"Thank God for the galaxy that you've chosen the black sheep role; where would we be without your yardstick-free ways?"

"What do you know about my 'black sheep' activities?"

"Only what I read about in your conversation with Suzaku. He seemed to think that you were a pretty hotshot troubleshooter with a galaxy-wide reputation."

"Ah yes; I forgot that you were eavesdropping."

"Eaves-_reading_, maybe--and can you blame me for picking up a book that I just saw a perfectly gorgeous man disappear into?" Joss happily squeezed the Doctor again.

"Speaking of eavesdropping, our young magician friend is practically falling out of his saddle trying to overhear what I could possibly be saying that is earning me so many warm gestures of affection from you. Now that you've succeeded in rousing his jealousy, do you think that you can curtail the compression of my ribs?"

"Ah, quit grumbling, you know you love it! Besides, getting Houjun's attention is just a pleasant side-effect. I hug you because you are essentially a squeezable time lord!"

"I must say, Joss, you have a unique way of referring to people. I've been called many things over the years, but never before 'squeezable.' Not to my knowledge, that is."

Joss' laughter was interrupted by an alarmed shout from Houjun. Shun'u had leapt up from the saddle and was now rapidly climbing a fifty-foot tree, pointing emphatically at a large nest situated in the upper branches. The Doctor turned his horse around and cantered rapidly back to Houjun's side. Houjun shouted at Shun'u to stop, then turned to the Doctor and Joss in frustration.

"He won't listen to me! All I did was mention that Joss liked the sweet egg cakes we would sometimes make for breakfast, and suddenly he took off after an eagle's nest!"

Joss joined Houjun in shouting at Shun'u to come down, while the Doctor scanned the tree with narrowed eyes. He drew in his breath in an anxious hiss. "That tree is diseased! Its branches may be brittle…SHUN'U!" he roared, his voice suddenly resounding with a force and volume that echoed off the trees. "Come _down!_ AT _ONCE!"_

The boy was near the top and reaching for the nest, but the Doctor's authoritative bellow caused him to pause and look down. At that moment, a huge Imperial eagle swept through the forest canopy, its seven-foot wing span nearly brushing against adjacent trees. The eagle struck viciously at Shun'u's head, but the boy ducked nimbly out of the way, only to have the branch give way beneath him with a sharp crack. He fell, but grabbed onto the next branch, which also gave way after a brief pause. He began to fall faster through the branches, each one giving way quicker and more easily under the increased force of his acceleration. Joss screamed, horrified at the slow-motion fall, while Houjun searched his memory desperately for some spell to stop the disastrous plunge. He breathed "_Fusege!_" and "_Yurumere!_" but the boy continued to fall. Before he could tell if the spells were helping at all, the last branch broke, and Shun'u free-fell the last fifteen feet, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

They raced up to the small crumpled form, the Doctor kneeling beside the boy and gently feeling around his head and neck. The amber eyes opened and gazed foggily at Joss, her distraught features hovering in his line of sight. "Almost got 'em, Nee-san…" he rasped--then the amber eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

The Doctor looked grimly into Houjun's frantic eyes as he carefully supported Shun'u's head on his long fingers. "Fractured skull; we need help right away! Houjun, do you have a spell that will hold him in stasis for awhile?"

Houjun frowned in concentration, trying to control his panic so that he could find a suitable spell. He could hear Joss suppressing her horrified sobs so as to keep from distracting him, but his thoughts remained entangled in a swirl of fear, grief and self-recrimination. Finally he looked helplessly at the Doctor--and was caught up in the mystical blue-green gaze. _You can do it,_ the eyes seemed to say to him from some unfathomable distance. _Just focus, and you will find the way._ Houjun felt his rapid heartbeats slowing, his mind clearing. He focused on the eyes that seemed to gaze at him between swirls of stars in the limitless depths of space. Lifting one hand to his face, he breathed out one chant after another, not hearing or understanding the words, yet somehow knowing that they were the phrases he required. The chants tapered off almost of their own accord, and he drew in a deep, trembling breath. He came back to himself, finally focusing on Joss' warm brown eyes, brimming with tears but shining with admiration.

"You've done it again; you've saved him," she breathed.

"He's bought us some time." The Doctor's tones were uncharacteristically terse. "Good work, Houjun, but if my conjecture is correct, you can keep him in this state only as long as you can hold your concentration, right?"

He was answered with a brief nod, Houjun keeping his eyes narrowed and focused on Shun'u's pale features.

"Then we have no choice. We must find help within the next several hours, or we're going to lose him."

****

The small party moved rapidly through the shadowed woods in grim silence, sparing little breath for even the briefest of exchanges. Although it was only early evening, the sun had already dropped behind the mountain peak, immersing the woods on the lee slope in premature twilight. Houjun kept his mount close to the shaggy mountain pony, his face pale and beaded with sweat as he struggled to maintain the spell he had been holding for several hours straight. The small, still form of Shun'u swayed gently in an ingenious hammock-like sling that the Doctor had rigged on the pony's back to minimize the unavoidable jostling of transport by horse. Instead of being jounced up and down, Shun'u merely swung gently side to side, even over the steepest paths on this forbidding mountain. His head was wrapped securely in strips of cloth and bound to a stiff support, holding both his head and neck immobilized.

Joss glanced anxiously over at the boy's white features from her seat on the Doctor's horse. Despite Houjun's best efforts, some of the injuries were gradually manifesting their effects, resulting in slow hemorrhaging from the skull fracture. Shun'u's eyes were slowly blackening, giving him his face a sunken appearance. Joss bit her lip, refusing to give in to helpless tears. What she wouldn't give right now to hear one of his cocky insults! Instead, her mind just kept replaying his last words to her…Damn it! If she started wailing and crying, all she would accomplish would be to make Houjun's task even harder, not to mention the possible effect on the Doctor.

She felt the tension in the Doctor's body as she held on to him lightly; yes, he was still simmering with barely suppressed rage, as he had been since shortly before they began their desperate journey in search of a healer. Houjun could not leave Shun'u's side, so the Doctor had walked only a short way into the woods to consult his magic mirror, believing himself to be alone. However, Joss had crept after him.

She'd spied him in a small clearing, twisting and turning the mirror in agitation. He had closed his eyes and thrown his head back, as if he were sending a silent message to someone, or receiving one in return. Even as he tried to concentrate, his face broke into a furious scowl, and finally he burst into verbal speech. "Why _not?_ If you can't intervene yourself, at least give us the flying carpet for speed!" Another brief pause, then the Doctor began shouting again. "_Damn_ your rules! This is no game we're playing here; the life of a young boy is at stake! A young boy who, I might remind you…" The Doctor had fallen silent again as if interrupted. He waited another half-minute, then spoke aloud again. "Very well; you leave me no choice. Withhold whatever you want. I don't believe in fate. Just because it goes against your accursed celestial games to intervene directly, don't think for a moment that I'm going to play along with you. I refuse to toss him aside like some playing piece that has become damaged and must be removed from the board! If you won't help him, I'll save him myself!" The Doctor had whirled around and stomped back towards their makeshift ER, leaving Joss barely enough time to duck behind a tree before he overran her.

And now…now he rode in the saddle before her, grimly cautious as he carefully chose one path after another, all the while consulting the glowing mirror. Joss felt their agitation and desperation increase as the sun sank further behind the mountain. She had the sudden sick conviction that Shun'u wasn't going to live through the night, not unless they found a skilled healer soon.

The Doctor finally broke the strained silence. "The mirror seems to be growing brighter; hopefully it means we should be able to find a healer soon. Maybe within two hours or so."

Joss asked the question that had nagged at her for the past few hours. "Doctor…um, what about you? Do you know anything about medical doctoring, or is your doctorate in another field?"

"Yes…and yes. Over the years, I've picked up a fair bit of knowledge about human anatomy and physiology. The problem is in the nature of Shun'u's injury. I would have no trouble treating him in the surgical unit of even a modest hospital in your world, Joss. But out here in the middle of nowhere, I'm unable to treat him without the benefit of IV's, x-rays, sterile syringes to tap some spinal fluid and relieve the pressure caused by the swelling of his brain, not to mention that not even state-of-the-art medical equipment can guarantee a good outcome in this case. What we're looking for--what we _need_ here--is a miracle."

Joss moved closer and dropped her voice. Although Houjun was in a half-trance state, trying to maintain the spell, she wanted to make sure that he couldn't overhear her. "And Suzaku?"

"Minimum help." The Doctor's expression was stormy. "All he will offer is a clue, through the mirror, of where to find someone to help us. Nothing more."

For once, Joss held her tongue and her temper in check. Bursting into a barrage of curses would only aggravate the Doctor and distract and confuse Houjun. She blinked back tears once again, tilting her chin up towards the forest canopy. Suddenly she drew in her breath. Did she just see movement in the trees?

Right at that moment, three human figures flew out of the treetops, sailing through the air and touching down as effortlessly as spiders, surrounding them. Joss gaped in astonishment until she noticed the men releasing ropes from harnesses fixed around their chests. Just then, a fourth figure, heavy and bulky, came crashing through the underbrush.

"Gotcha!" he sneered in a voice thick with satisfaction as he pointed a short sword at the Doctor. Joss glared at him, noting the small piggy eyes set in a wide, shapeless face, thick lips parted in a mindless leer. "Now listen ta me, my fine rich friends: hand over all th' goods an' th' horses, an' mebbe we'll letcha live!"

"Fuckin' hell!" Joss cursed, noting the ragbag wardrobe each man sported, obviously stolen from victims with better taste. "Just what we need--bandits!"

"Watcher mouth, little boy!" the thickset man chortled gleefully. "We ain't just any bandits; we're the Mount Reikaku bandits!"

"Er, Eiken," interrupted one bandit wearing a gaudy headscarf. "I think that's a woman there…"

The pumpkin grin grew wider until Joss thought that Eiken's ugly face might split in half. "A woman, eh?" He moved forward and leered up at Joss. "Not much ta look at, but it's what's between th' legs that counts!" He roared with laughter at his own joke, while the other three men looked uncomfortable.

"Uh, Eiken, th' boss said you weren't s'posed ta--"

"_Fuck_ th' boss!" snarled Eiken. "He ain't here, I am! So shut th' fuck up and lissen ta me! We're takin' everythin' they got--_after _I get a shot at th' woman!" He placed a hand possessively on Joss' leg.

Joss looked down at the clumsy hand groping her leg, then up at Eiken's face…and then, with a kung-fu kick almost too fast to be seen, landed a hit squarely on Eiken's jaw, sending him sprawling backwards into the dirt.

The other three bandits roared with laughter--until Eiken got to his feet, snorting like a bull and twice as angry. The Doctor turned his horse so that he was between Joss and the bandit, while Houjun, further back by Shun'u, clenched his teeth in frustration. His focus wavered for a moment, and Shun'u gave a low moaning cry. Cursing under his breath, Houjun was forced to turn his concentration back to the spell.

"Listen, my friends." The Doctor's tones were smooth and persuasive. "We don't wish for any violence. I will be happy to give you any money or articles you may want. I ask only that you let us pass and keep our horses. We have a gravely injured child that we must get to a healer as soon as possible. I believe that you will be pleased with the quality of some of the goods that I can offer you."

The three other bandits looked concerned again, one of them stepping around to peer into Shun'u's sling. "He's tellin' th' truth! Got a little one here in bad shape! Listen, we better jus' let 'em go. Th' boss said--"

"An' I said, FUCK TH' BOSS!" roared Eiken. "I'm takin' everythin,' an' you pussies better back me up or I'll make ya regret it! Or dontcha remember th' bandit code?"

The three other bandits sighed and pulled their swords, pointing them at the Doctor, Joss and Houjun. Houjun bit his lip, suddenly deciding to cast his holding spell, but at that moment, a trickle of blood ran from Shun'u's swollen nose. _Houjun, stay with Shun'u!_ a voice urged in his head. He looked over to see the Doctor's blue-green gaze fixed on him, and turned back obediently to stabilizing the boy, although his mind cried out in protest.

One of the bandits drew near to the Doctor, still pointing his sword threateningly. He spoke very softly so that only the Doctor and Joss could hear him. "Don't worry," he murmured. "Jus' come back to th' stronghold with us, an' th' boss'll sort it out. Eiken kin be a real asshole sometimes, but he holds rank over us, so we gotta follow his orders, at least till somebody higher-rankin' comes along."

"We can't!" hissed the Doctor. "If we don't get down the mountain in the next couple of hours, the boy will die! You _must_ make him release us!"

"Sorry, can't do that. Best we kin do is getcha ta th' boss--"

"WHAT'S TAKIN' YOU SO FUCKIN' LONG?" Eiken let out another aggrieved roar. "Jus' get th' horses and th' stuff, an' let's _GO!"_

The kind-hearted bandit sighed again and motioned with his sword for the Doctor to dismount. Before the Doctor could move, however, Joss slid out of the saddle and strode up to Eiken. She placed her hands gently on his chest and stroked the rough material of his tunic.

"Take the supplies, but leave the horses and let the men and boy go."

Eiken sneered at her request. "Why should I do that, ya smartass bitch? Why shouldn't I jus' take everythin' I want?"

"Because if you let them go…I'll give you me."

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Fusege! - "Stop!" or "Hold!"

Yurumere! - "Slow down!"

*

Author's note: (6-3-03) Well, I could start out with a lot of excuses as to where I've been for so long, but you've heard them all before. I'll just say that my job is at stake and leave it at that, okay?

First of all, I need to thank all my readers and reviewers; you've been very kind during my long (5 week!) absence. Next, I've been terribly neglectful in reading and reviewing many of your works: see the above "non-excuse." I hope to remedy that someday soon…someday. Finally, if any of you have e-mailed me and received only rude silence as a reply: once again, my abject apologies. Please e-mail me again, and I will do my level best to get back to you in a timely manner.

Anyway, back to this fic. Yes, I've been gone a long time, but I can't abandon this story until it's completely done. There is a reason that I've been slogging away at this chapter every single spare minute I can get (and that's all the spare time I get each day now, about one minute.) It's the same reason on the AN for "Hidden Paths" - _that_ story cannot progress until _this_ story is finished. "Hidden Paths" is, plotwise, much more the sequel to "Bridge" than it is to "White Stones."

So I do not intend to leave you "Bridge" fans with this cliffhanger for long; I'm already hard at work on "Bridge 12." I need to kick out as many chapters of Bridge as is Roku-ly possible, so that Hidden Paths can get back on track. I still have a couple of chapters of HP that I could write before I _have_ to explain what happened to Chichiri, but the time is fast approaching when nothing more can be written on HP until Bridge is complete. And that day--the completion of "Bridge"--is coming soon. I promise.

Now onto more fun stuff. For those of you confused by the interlude with the young woman who mourns Shun'u: be patient. Her identity will be clearly explained a few chapters from now. She will also play a pivotal role in Hidden Paths.

Also, a quick interlude with the Mount Reikaku bandits, pre-Genrou and Kouji. And for the Doctor Who fans (and those just a little curious about his history), a brief story of Ace. She, Shun'u, and Joss would make an explosive team!

Enough of all this--what about "Casting Stones?" you wail. Yes, I'm still working on that chapter; the trouble is that my recent moods have been more grim than giddy, as evidenced by the mood shift in this chapter of Bridge. But I will get back to it; at some point, I'm going to have to blow off steam!

See you next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	12. Spirit wolves and miracles

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 12. Spirit Wolves and Miracles

"I'll give you me."

Joss' words echoed in the suddenly silent woods, even the branches of the trees seeming to hold still in apprehensive attentiveness.

However, it was too much for Houjun. _"No!"_ He leapt from his horse, completely forgetting the stasis spell. Shun'u let out an involuntary wail, sounding eerily as if he were joining Houjun in vehement protest of Joss' offer. Houjun rushed forward to reach Joss but found himself thrust back by arms of incredible strength. He looked up confused into the blue-green glare of the Doctor, who had also dismounted.

"Get back!" hissed the Doctor. "Get back and take up the spell again, or everything that she's fighting for will be lost! You must help Shun'u, and you must trust Joss; she knows what she's doing!"

Houjun hesitated, his expression tormented and furious as he hovered between his fear for Joss and his duty to Shun'u. The Doctor took him firmly by the arm and led him back to Shun'u, forcing him to remount his horse and look down at the pale face of the boy, streaked with unconscious tears of pain. Houjun closed his eyes and sought for the trailing edges of the spell, pushing aside his panic at what was about to occur.

Eiken squinted his already tiny eyes, observing the byplay between the two men with interest. Joss sought to distract him with another caress of his tunic, making his face split apart in a leering grin. "Oh-ho-ho. So the snotty bitch's come down from her high horse ta barter wi' me, eh?" His piggy eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his doughy face. "Why should I do anythin' for ya, ya bitch? If I wanted yer ass, why shouldn't I jus' take it?" He grabbed her right arm and jerked her against him.

The Doctor started forward, but Joss held up her free hand in a restraining gesture. She covered the hand on her arm with her left hand, then squeezed Eiken's hand with a subtle move that nevertheless made the bandit shout in pain. Joss released him immediately and caught the wounded hand in her own, stroking it with caresses both soothing and oddly erotic.

"Of course, you could take me by force," she purred. "But then I would be just another piece of…nothing special. However, if I were grateful to you--if I _owed_ you--then you could taste of the delights that up until now were reserved only for the Emperor himself."

Eiken's eyes were beginning to glaze over with lust, but he struggled to make sense of the woman's words with what little brain he had left. "Ya don't look like nothin' special ta me. Ya sure as hell don' look like nothin' the Emperor would want. Too old, fer one thing."

"Shows what you know!" snapped Joss. She immediately regained control and adopted a seductive attitude. "Of course, I'm a little older than the rest of Saihitei's harem. That's because I was the last--and _favorite_--concubine of the old emperor…and the_ first_ concubine of the young emperor."

"Ya mean that yer the one who took his--?"

"Let's just say that the future Empress has a high standard to live up to_; very_ high." Joss' voice was a low and sensuous purr. She could sense it; she had Eiken hooked.

But the bandit still remembered her initial attacks against him. "Tell ya what." He leered at his own cleverness. "Jes' ta make sure ya ain't got no cute tricks planned, I'm havin' my buddies stay here an' watch. Then when I'm through with ya, they can have their turns; I'm a nice guy that way."

The other three bandits looked slightly sick, obviously not wanting to follow Eiken down that path. But it was Joss' voice that rang out, cracking like a whip through the quiet forest.

"I said that I was an Imperial concubine, not a common brothel whore!" Her tone was haughty and contemptuous. "I don't do multiples, and I do _not_ perform in public. This offer is for you alone, Eiken...but perhaps you don't possess the wit to appreciate it. Would you take a delicacy from the Emperor's plate and swill it down with sour beer?"

Eiken stared at Joss, obviously impressed by her high-bred manners. His eyes glazed over again as he contemplated taking a woman previously reserved for the most powerful man in Konan. He absently wiped a line of drool from his thick lips with one hairy wrist. "Aw right, then," he said thickly, tugging at his trousers as his excitement grew. "Show me whatcha got."

Joss closed her eyes momentarily, fighting back a sudden urge to vomit. '_Don't do it,_' she rebuked herself mentally. '_Don't toss your cookies, or he'll catch onto you and everything will be lost._' She opened her eyes again and fixed him with what she hoped was a cool, composed look. "First you have to let the men and the boy go; that was our agreement."

"What, dontcha wanna let yer boyfrien' watch?" chortled Eiken, amused at the furious twitch in Houjun's jaw as he struggled to maintain the spell while having to listen to Eiken's crude remarks. The Doctor had remounted and sat very still in his saddle, but his eyes glittered with a cold light.

Joss merely stalked past Eiken to join Houjun at Shun'u's side. She gazed up at him, her eyes desperately seeking to catch his gaze, but he kept his own eyes averted as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "Please," she murmured softly. "You have to understand; he called me 'Nee-san.'" She choked back a sob. "He's my little brother now. I _have_ to save him--_you_ have to save him! So go _now,_ before Eiken changes his mind…_GO!"_

Houjun jumped in surprise at her sudden shout. The Doctor spurred his horse towards them and seized Houjun's reins. He pulled Houjun's horse and Shun'u's pony after him. "Hyah!" he shouted, his voice grim and harsh as he forced them to canter out of the ambush, disappearing around a bend in the path.

Joss blinked back tears as she listened to the hoofbeats fade into the distance. She pulled herself together and turned to face Eiken's lustful smirk with a steady gaze. "So shall we find a place where we can have some privacy?"

****

Houjun tried to hold the stasis spell in place as he was jostled by the horse's rapid pace, but his concentration kept slipping. Shun'u moaned a few incoherent protests, at one point crying out, "No, no, nooooo," his vocalizations matching the magician's furious thoughts. Once they had gone a respectable distance and rounded several turns in the path, the Doctor pulled up the horses and flung himself out of the saddle. His expression was tight and unreadable as he strode up to Houjun's side.

Houjun gasped and let the spell drop again. "Doctor, we can't--you can't ask her to--!"

"Hold the spell!" snarled the Doctor, his voice almost unrecognizable with rage. "Hold the spell and keep _going_; keep going down the mountain!" He thrust the magic mirror into Houjun's hand. "Follow wherever the symbol grows brighter and _don't_ _STOP!_" He caught his breath. "I'm going back to get Joss, so be sure to get Shun'u as far away from here as possible."

"Doctor, let me come with you!"

"No! You're the only barrier standing between this boy and death! You _must_ do as Joss asked you and get him to safety; you _must_--" The Doctor hesitated at Houjun's furious expression and decided to try another tack. "Houjun, trust me. If ever there was a time that you needed to trust me, it's now. I _will_ bring her back, I promise you, but every second that you delay me here is another second that she is in that creature's clutches! So do as I tell you _now!_"

Houjun grimaced in frustration but nodded and spurred his horse, pulling Shun'u's pony down the mountain path. The Doctor turned and began running quietly back up the mountain, muttering vehement curses under his breath, curses that would have withered the very leaves on the trees had they understood ancient Gallifreyan.

In spite of his considerable experience in running, he was frustrated at how long it was taking him to reach the ambush site. Every second that he delayed was another second in which Joss was forced to…. He shut down that agonized train of thought as he began to recognize landscape features near the ambush. The Doctor slowed his pace, leaving the path and slipping stealthily from tree to tree. It was ominously quiet near his target destination. He finally stepped out from behind the last tree, only to see…

...nothing. The area was deserted; Eiken, Joss, and the bandits long gone.

The Doctor pounded his fist into his thigh in frustration. Just as he was about to let loose with another blistering Gallifreyan curse, he felt a strong hand pulling back his head and the cold, steely edge of a blade pressed to his throat.

"Now whadda we got here?" inquired a silky, amused voice.

****

Joss followed Eiken's bulky form as he dragged her deeper into the trees. To her surprise, he'd chosen to make a forced march to another region that was a good distance away from the ambush site. Joss didn't know whether to be glad that their jaunt was buying her time or worried at the fact that she wouldn't be at the place where the Doctor and Houjun would look for her when they came back for her. _If_ they came back for her. After all, it wasn't as if she were a vital component of the Doctor's mission. Even if Houjun felt differently, he couldn't leave Shun'u to rescue her. No, she might as well face it: she'd gotten herself into this situation, and she was going to have to get herself out again. She sucked in some air, feeling somewhat breathless at the unexpectedly rapid pace that Eiken was setting. She'd tried to slow them earlier by stumbling, but Eiken had jerked her arm so hard that he nearly pulled it out of its socket. Joss knew that she couldn't afford to get injured if she hoped to pull some fancy kung-fu moves on the bastard dragging her along, so she gamely kept up with him.

The three bandits trailed them at a distance, following Eiken's orders. "I still don' trust this bitch," he had confided earlier in a growl. "So you guys stay close, an' if she tries anythin' cute, you better jump in or I'll have yer hides tacked up on my chamber wall, got it?"

They had nodded glumly, the kind bandit shaking his head. "I don't care even if she's the Emperor's whore," he muttered in an undertone to his companions. "She don't deserve ta be pawed by that pig. He's gonna hurt her, ya know, jus' 'cause he can!"

"Yeah, but what're we s'posed ta do?" protested another bandit. "Th' boss said that we hadda stick together an' obey rank!"

"We can't do nuthin'," agreed the third bandit. "Life jes' sucks sometimes, that's all."

Just when Joss thought that she was about to collapse, they stopped in a small clearing. The three bandits took up position at the edge, fading back between the trees. Joss looked back at their forms, half-hidden in the shadows. "I said I don't perform for audiences!" she snapped. She struggled to keep her voice steady, knowing that the slightest tremor would give her away.

"They can't see nothin' in this light. They're jes' there ta make sure ya ain't got no cute tricks planned, yer Royal Hind-Ass!" Eiken chortled at his own joke.

Joss anxiously looked back at the bandits, calculating whether she could take Eiken down and get away before the others realized what was going on, when suddenly she was rocked back by a blow to one side of her head. Her vision blurred for a moment--then Eiken was all over her, his thick lips slobbering over her mouth as his hands tore at her tunic and groped for her breasts.

Joss struggled for air, her mind screaming in horror. She hadn't expected him to move so fast, she'd underestimated his speed and strength, and now she was in trouble and he was all over her, and she couldn't defend herself because it was too _late!_ She couldn't breathe, and she was getting dizzy, and now he was pulling at her trousers, and oh, God, wouldn't somebody, _anybody_ help her?

At that moment, the clearing resounded with an unfamiliar battle cry. "Rekka Shin'_EN!_" A gout of flame exploded and shot past them, scorching Eiken. The bandit shouted in pain and released Joss, dropping to the ground and rolling to try to extinguish his smoking clothes. Joss fell to her knees, desperately gasping for air while pulling her torn tunic together with shaking hands. Her eyes were wide with shock, both at her near rape and at the inexplicable intervention, so it was a few moments before she focused on a tall figure standing over them both.

It was a young man, slightly older than Houjun, impossibly handsome and self-possessed. His thick, dark hair was caught in a long ponytail, leaving only a few trailing strands to hang in front of silvery-grey eyes that caught the dim twilight and glowed mysteriously in the darkness. '_Wolf's eyes_,' thought Joss, her shell-shocked mind fixing on small, unimportant details. Suddenly another figure strode into her line of sight and stooped beside her. Even in the twilight, she recognized the cut of his coat and his long wavy hair…

"Doctor!" wailed Joss, releasing her control now that she knew she was safe. He caught her in a fierce embrace, crushing her against his chest and stroking her hair with hands that were shaking violently. She sobbed out all her fear and horror, weeping into the velvet coat. She felt him tremble beneath her desperate grasp and realized that he was as frightened as she by what had nearly transpired--and that thought strangely helped her to regain control. She was overcome with the need to comfort _him_, so she gasped, "'S'all right! I'm all right now…we're all right…" while releasing his lapels and sliding her arms around his back, pulling him close. And it _was_ all right, because they _hadn't_ left her, they _had_ come back for her as she knew they would, and she knew that she could trust them to the ends of the earth. She frowned as she felt the Doctor's heartbeat flutter oddly beneath her ear; could he be having palpitations?

"Eiken, ya filthy pig, get up!" The authoritative voice echoed around the clearing, its smooth tones making even the mountain accent sound princely. The stranger stood with his legs apart, pointing a large metallic object that looked like a giant folded fan at the scorched bandit.

Eiken staggered to his feet, whimpering and clutching at his singed backside. Joss briefly hid her face in the Doctor's coat, until a wave of rage overtook her. She'd be _damned_ if she cowered and cringed before that filthy beast! It was his turn to cower, and she was determined to witness every last minute of his humiliation. She pushed away from the Doctor and turned to face the two men, lifting her chin proudly, although she still clutched the Doctor's hand in a death grip. The Doctor slipped out of her grasp briefly and removed his frock coat, wrapping Joss securely in its warm, sandalwood-scented folds and pulling her firmly to his side.

"Boss, why'd ya do that?" Eiken blubbered and whined, all his bravado gone now that he was facing the wrath of the true leader of the Mount Reikaku bandits. "I wasn't doin' nuthin'!"

"Shut up!" snarled the boss. "Don't ever make th' mistake of thinkin' that I'm as stupid as you, Eiken! I know goddamn well what you were doin'! You were breakin' every rule I've tried ta pound through yer thick skull for the last few years!"

"Boss?" murmured Joss in an aside to the Doctor.

"Yes," the Doctor's voice was equally hushed. "I was fortunate enough to encounter him as I was running back to get you. He asked me what I was doing on 'his' mountain, so I told him everything. And now--" He broke off as Eiken continued to whine.

"I din't break no rules! Th' woman _offered_ ta come wi' me. _She_ was the one who came onta _me!_"

Joss flushed in humiliation. Eiken's words were technically true, and if this were a court of law--

"Yeah, an' why'd she offer that? Yer tryin' ta tell me that she was overcome by yer good looks an' fine manners?"

The three other bandits burst into sniggers but were silenced by a glare from the boss. "Ya got nothin' ta laugh about, since you three assholes are in serious shit with me, too! What th' fuck were ya thinkin'? Holdin' up people who were tryin' ta get a sick kid ta some healer, makin' th' woman offer herself up ta this pig so that he'd let th' kid go? What th' fuck's wrong with y'all?"

"But Boss, ya said that we hadda obey rank!"

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud, was every last one of ya dropped on yer heads by yer mothers? Ya think that maybe between th' three of ya, ya could come up with at least one brain? Yer not s'posed ta follow someone when they're breakin' my rules!" The young man sighed in aggravation and turned to meet gazes with the Doctor. "I'm surrounded by idiots!" he complained.

The Doctor smiled but kept diplomatically silent, squeezing Joss' arm so that she would do the same.

The bandit leader turned back to his abashed subordinates. "Okay, geniuses, lemme put this in short sentences so as ta not overwork yer tiny brains. _I'm_ th' boss,_ I_ set th' rules, an' th' rules _stand_ whether or not I'm there with ya! As for this pea-brained asshole, jus' ta make sure that ya don't get confused by him again, I'm bustin' him down ta lowest rank!"

Eiken let out a wail of dismay. "But Boss, I been part o' yer gang fer over three years now!"

The wolfish eyes glittered coldly. "So ya think ya'd learn th' rules by now, dontcha? Ya better count yerself lucky, Eiken, that I don't flame yer ass to a cinder right here an' now! Ya know goddamn well that we don't steal from th' poor, and we sure as hell don't molest women or hold children hostage! But just ta make sure ya get th' rules through the thing in yer ass ya call a brain, you can do all th' chores around th' stronghold fer th' next two weeks! Th' new orphan kid could use some time off, anyway. You three geniuses can take 'im back there before I decide that I really _am_ pissed enough ta torch every last one of ya!"

The three bandits jumped up and grabbed Eiken's arms, hustling him off in the opposite direction. But Eiken looked back at the bandit leader one last time, his features contorted with lust, a sick longing for…

Joss shuddered. How could the handsome young bandit leader tolerate such a look from that animal? Maybe he didn't see it.

"Yeah, look all ya want, Eiken. Ya ain't gettin' any closer ta havin' th' tessen while I'm alive--unless yer gettin' it this way! Rekka Shin'EEEEN!"

A gout of flame shot out of the iron fan, leaping towards the four bandits, who yelled and ran panic-stricken into the woods. The bandit leader laughed merrily. "Buncha assholes! Shoulda singed 'em a little more, I think!"

Joss finally realized that the object of Eiken's lust was the mystical, flame-shooting iron fan that the bandit leader now held carelessly against one shoulder. She shook her head at the thought of the disastrous circumstances that would be set in motion if Eiken ever _did _get his nasty paws on the fan. Luckily, the bandit leader seemed to have everything under control.

The man turned and faced Joss and the Doctor, smiling charmingly at the young woman. "I'd like ta 'pologize for that pig's actions; he ain't at all what I intended for th' gang ta be! I'm known as Hakurou, and I'm th' boss of th' Mount Reikaku bandits, who, if you'll believe me, are mostly decent guys. That one, though…" his eyes darkened, "...I'm gonna hafta keep a close eye on 'im, not ta mention beat th' shit outta him at regular intervals."

The Doctor was mildly curious. "Why do you keep such an unsavory specimen in your gang, Hakurou-san? I would think that he's more trouble than he's worth."

"'Cause I ain't quite ready ta kill 'im in cold blood," Hakurou answered bluntly. "If you had a vicious dog that you weren't ready ta put down, wouldja set 'im loose to run in th' woods an' maybe jump out atcha one day--or wouldja keep 'im chained up under yer eye so's ta keep 'im under control? Eiken's a nasty piece o' work, but at least the gang discipline keeps 'im toein' th' line most of th' time. If I cut 'im loose, he'll just join up with th' Mount Kaou bastards, an' then he'll be free ta do some _real_ damage!" Hakurou sighed. "Not ta mention, he did a favor for my dad once--a _life_ favor, but my dad died b'fore he could pay 'im back. So now I'm stuck with th' debt, but I ain't necessarily gonna put up wi' Eiken's shit forever, and I make damn sure th' bastard knows that!"

The Doctor nodded in agreement while Joss marveled at Hakurou's intelligence and good looks. What was it about this world that produced so many gorgeous, heroic men? Of course, the Universe of the Four Gods also had trolls like Eiken populating it, but it was still nice to know that a young woman could run across a Hakurou or a Houjun…

"Houjun!" gasped Joss, flushing guiltily at forgetting about the young magician while ogling Hakurou. "He's--"

"Half-mad with worry about you, and frantically trying to get Shun'u to safety," replied the Doctor, who also seemed to have momentarily forgotten about their urgent mission. "Hakurou-san, as I told you earlier, we are desperately trying to find a healer who is not far from here. Have you heard anything about someone with near-miraculous healing powers?"

"As a matter o' fact, I 'm jus' returnin' from a trip ta' sniff out news aroun' my mountain, and I heard some people talkin' 'bout somebody who was helpin' out with a sickness in a little village at th' base of th' mountain. Seems that they had some kinda feast or celebration, an' they didn't roast th' pig enough, and lotsa people got sick, includin' their own healer. So they sent for this guy from another village, and s'posedly he's practically a miracle-worker from th' way they're talkin'. But here's th' thing: he's no old _jija_; he's practically a kid 'imself."

The Doctor's eyes gleamed with excitement. "He sounds like just the person we're seeking! Hakurou-san, could you tell us--?"

"Better'n that, I'll show ya the right road ta take, 'cause these mountain paths interconnect and get kinda confusin' as ya go further down. So listen, I found those assholes' horses tied up back there, an' I figure it'll be just punishment for Eiken if ya take his horse. So let's ride!"

****

Houjun stood, staring in frustration at the crossing of several paths. All paths appeared to lead down the mountain, staying fairly close together, but he could only assume that they diverged at some distant point. He didn't want to waste time choosing the wrong path, then having to backtrack to try yet another path, and perhaps repeating the process over and over again. He felt Shun'u weakening, his ki force growing fainter, and he knew that he had to make the right choice _now!_

Suddenly he heard hoofbeats cantering rapidly down the mountain towards him. Cursing to himself, Houjun quickly pulled the horses and Shun'u into the shelter of the trees. The Doctor and Joss had both been unmounted, which meant that at best, those hoofbeats belonged to some innocent travelers but at worst, they belonged to the bandits, coming to take revenge upon himself and Shun'u. He wiped sweat from his eyes and readied a defensive spell, feeling as if he were stooping to pick a flower while carrying a hundred-pound weight on his back. He knew that he held only the most precarious control over his powers at this point, but--

In a flash, a stranger on horseback burst into view, startling him. Houjun's mind cried out_ bandit!_, his control slipped, and before he could stop himself, the defensive blast of ki exploded at the horseman, knocking him off his horse. Immediately thereafter, a second horse galloped onto the scene, its rider shouting, "Houjun, _stop!"_

Even in the twilight, he recognized the Doctor; therefore, the smaller figure mounted behind him could only be--

"Joss!" Houjun gasped the name with relief and gratitude.

"Joss…" mumbled a small voice from the trees, followed by a choked sob.

"Houjun, take up the holding spell!" snapped the Doctor, dismounting and kneeling by the fallen horseman.

Joss had dismounted as well, but she ran up to Houjun, sensing his distress. "I'm all right," she reassured him. "Everything's all right!" Her eyes glistened with tears in the dim light, and she was wrapped in the Doctor's coat--Houjun felt a burning rage take hold in him. Those _bastards!_

"No, Houjun, I'm really all right," pleaded Joss, reading the fury in his mystical eyes. "Tell me about Shun'u." Gently, she led him back to his duty.

"Getting weaker," muttered Houjun, suddenly feeling useless and helpless. He hadn't been there for Joss, and now…now he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Houjun?" Joss was confused by his averted gaze.

At that moment, the stranger sat up with a groan, the Doctor supporting him with an arm around his shoulders. "What th' fuck jus' hit me?" asked Hakurou, shaking his head.

"I'm terribly sorry, Hakurou-san, but I'm afraid you startled my young friend. He was guarding the injured child and used his talents to defend the boy and so--"

Houjun bowed apologetically, feeling his vision waver from the effort of holding the spell.

Hakurou whistled in admiration, catching Houjun's eye while taking in his pale, strained appearance. "All I gotta say is that if he can do somethin' like that while he's in that condition, he's welcome ta join my gang anytime! We could use somebody with his talents."

Relieved that the bandit leader had taken no offense at Houjun's attack, the Doctor proceeded with introductions and explanations. Hakurou responded by pointing them down the correct path, and issued an open invitation for any of the travelers to visit his mountain at any time as his honored guests.

The Doctor drew the bandit aside and spoke softly with him, at which point Hakurou nodded and replied, "Well then, we never saw ya, an' I'll make sure those idiots ya met earlier keep ta that story as well! Better be on yer way, now--an' I'll say some prayers for th' little one here!" He gestured at Shun'u's small form in the sling and bowed a farewell from horseback. Joss blew him a kiss as he rode off up the mountain trail.

It took an hour of careful negotiation down the dark mountain path before the weary travelers spied the glow of lamplight spilling from the houses and inns in the good-sized town at the base. The Doctor looked around, once more appearing to sniff the wind. He drew his horse close to Houjun's.

"Houjun, it's time for us to don our turbans and veils again. There are far too many strangers in this place, and any one of them could give information unknowingly."

"What about me?" asked Joss from behind the Doctor.

"I'll give you a robe, but the women of the Kel do not need to wear veils. It's only the men."

"I think I like the Kel already," murmured Joss approvingly.

The strangely garbed party rode into the town and began to query about the whereabouts of the powerful young healer. Luckily, it was at the second inn that they encountered a garrulous and friendly man who knew the most recent place that the healer was said to have visited. The Doctor thanked him profusely for the detailed directions that led them to the darker, poorer outskirts of the bustling town.

The group stopped within a circle of small hovels. A few scrawny dogs tied to the doorposts with string yapped a sleepy challenge, but the inhabitants did not come to their doors to inquire their purpose.

"Not borrowing trouble," muttered the Doctor, tipping the mirror to the dim light leaking from the window of the smallest, poorest shack. His head jerked up and he strode towards the lamplit shack, knocking firmly on the door. After an extended wait, a frightened young woman dressed in coarse rags cracked open the door, drawing back in fear from the turbaned and veiled stranger.

"Bandits!" she gasped. "Please spare us; there is nothing here! Only a sick child."

"No, no need to worry," reassured the Doctor. "We're not bandits. We're merely travelers who have a sick child of our own. Would you allow us to see the healer?"

Her weary eyes flashed once in fear, then inexplicably cleared. She stepped aside, waving the strangers into her tiny home. Joss followed the Doctor, once more marveling at his ability to gain people's trust with only a few words, while Houjun remained outside, leaning against Shun'u's pony with his eyes closed.

Joss and the Doctor skirted around a hole in the floor that held a small cooking fire flickering weakly beneath a battered teapot. The woman lifted a curtain that covered the doorway to a second smaller room. They could see a small form breathing easily from a straw mat on the floor, while a very large figure reclined beside it, its long limbs extending off his own straw mat to trail in the dust of the dirt floor.

"He's very tired," the woman explained, her voice soft with gratitude. "He has been helping out in the village all week, and just when he was going to leave, my son took ill. He turned his horse around and came back here to help us, although we had nothing to pay him with. Now my son is recovered, but the healer nearly collapsed from exhaustion, so I begged him to share my poor hospitality."

"You are a very good woman," murmured the Doctor in his foreign accent. "I hate to disturb him, but our need is very urgent. Could you tell me his name?"

"Myou," replied a deep voice from the floor. The figure sat up, even that contained motion suddenly unfolding his large form so that he seemed to fill the entire room. "Myou Juan-- but you may call me Juan. Now what seems to be the problem?"

****

Houjun slumped against the pony in a near-trance state. He felt as if he'd always been here and would forever be here, holding weakly to some clouded spell as he grasped futilely for the ki force of an innocent child as it trickled slowly away…

_'He's here!'_ whispered his mind, jolting him awake at the same moment that the lamplight from the tiny house shone into his eyes. The light was almost immediately blocked by a tall, thin figure who strode up to him purposefully--and for some reason, Houjun felt a jolt of recognition shoot through his being, at the same time realizing that he had never met this person before. He would've remembered the coal black hair, flowing thickly from the crown of the man's head, cut short so as to not require a ponytail, and the kind yet weary blue eyes. The man seemed to be his own age, but he was incredibly tall, his lanky form still holding the thin lines of adolescence beneath his simple tunic and slightly too-short trousers.

The stranger seemed to feel the inexplicable connection as well, for he stopped in his tracks, staring at the veiled visage of the shorter man. "Have we met--?" he began, but at that moment, the Doctor appeared beside the healer.

"Myou-san, if you please, the child is in great danger!"

The young physician rubbed at his reddened eyes, then bent over the small quiet figure in the sling, muttering, "Let me see here." One look at Shun'u's sunken features snapped the healer into full alertness. "Dear Suzaku!" he cursed softly. "What happened to him?"

"He fell out of a tree," explained the Doctor tersely. "Fractured skull: that's the worst injury, but he has multiple contusions and also a fractured ankle."

"When did this happen?"

"Nearly twelve hours ago."

"Twelve hours!" The healer stared down at the boy with shock tinged with respect. "He should have died by now! I don't understand--" He glanced up at the veiled men, noting the pale, sweating forehead of the quiet one.

The Doctor chimed in again. "My friend here has a few, er, _talents_ in slowing things down. Yet even with those abilities, I'm afraid that things are deteriorating."

Myou Juan rubbed his forehead distractedly, muttering to himself. "Was it last night that I--no, early this morning? After midnight? Damn it, the hours are running together in my head!" He looked up at the anxious, hopeful glances of the men and the woman. "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can help you."

The woman's eyes immediately filled with tears, and she choked back a sob. Myou Juan felt the familiar helpless rage at others' suffering, his burning need to help people in distress, no matter the cost to himself. He shook his head and committed himself to the precarious path of helping these people and the boy they obviously loved, although he knew that it would be at the risk of his own life.

"I'll be honest with you. There's nothing in the normal methods of a healer that I can do for him: nothing that you haven't done already and with considerable skill, I might add. But I myself have some talents as you say. The problem is there's a limitation on my abilities: I can only use them once each day. And I'm afraid that I've already used them sometime early this morning, at some hour past midnight that I can't recall at the moment."

The tears spilled over from the woman's eyes. "How many hours?" she whispered, her accent as foreign as her companion's. "Is it twenty-four hours between treatments, or is it a sunrise-to-sunset time interval?"

Myou Juan admired her logical question, formulated even through her obviously severe emotional distress. "It's not sunrise-to-sunset; I've tried that before. But I'm not certain if it's a full twenty-four hour interval…I just don't know," he admitted, slightly embarrassed at the fact that he never really tested it before.

"Of course you've never tested it," reassured the Doctor. "After all, you would hardly be randomly healing people at decreasing time intervals merely for the purpose of testing your abilities." He winced as Juan jumped, startled at having his thoughts answered aloud. "I'm terribly sorry, bad habit of mine…but please, isn't there anything you can do?"

"Well, perhaps if...if your friend--"

"Ri-san," interjected the Doctor.

"If Ri-san can continue to slow the progress of the injury, perhaps he can hold the boy stable until my abilities return."

The Doctor gazed anxiously at Houjun's pale and sweating countenance. He sensed the deterioration of Houjun's own physical well-being under the relentless stress of holding the spell for hours. "How long?" he asked softly, watching Houjun carefully.

"Maybe three--maybe four hours."

Houjun closed his eyes in despair. The Doctor detected a change in his heartbeat, an increasing irregularity--and he hated the decision he was forced to make. "No," he replied sadly. "He can't do it. Hou…Ri-san, I'm sorry, but it's time that you let go. You've done everything you can, more than anyone else could have done, but--"

"No!" Houjun gasped for breath. "I can _do_ it, Doctor; I _have_ to do it! Please don't try to stop me! I just have to hold on a little longer."

Joss bit back her sobs. Somehow she knew that Houjun was risking his own life to save Shun'u. She didn't want him to--no, he _had_ to--like him, she couldn't stand the thought of Shun'u dying when they were so close to saving him, but she couldn't stand the thought of Houjun dying, either! Oh God, if the choice was hers, would she let a child die to save the man she loved? What kind of person _was_ she?

_'A very human person, Joss,'_ the Doctor's voice sounded quietly in her mind. _'But there's no point in self-castigation; the choice is his, not yours.'_

Houjun turned his eyes to the healer. "I can do it," he pleaded, somehow knowing that he had to convince this man. Blue eyes met brown, and some unspoken message seemed to pass between them.

"Very well. If you can do it, then so can I."

Scant minutes later, Houjun was seated by the tiny cooking fire as Juan settled Shun'u carefully upon a straw mat. He checked the child's pulse and heart rate, lifted the bruised eyelids and peered into his eyes. "No better," he muttered, "but luckily, no worse as well." He pulled herbs from a pouch at his side and poured them into the steaming water in the teapot. The woman of the house had retreated to the second room to watch over her sleeping son and to give the healer the room he needed to treat the new patient. The Doctor and Joss had set up their own camp in the woods outside the circle of hovels, the "hospital" being too small to accommodate four adults and an injured child in the central room.

After a few minutes, Juan poured some of the herbal infusion into a small wooden cup and handed it to Houjun, who accepted it with a confused look. "I thought this was for the boy."

"It will help stabilize your breathing and heart rate." Juan mock-frowned at his companion. "Drink it. The boy lives only as long as you stay conscious, am I right? So do as I say; I'm merely looking after my patient."

Houjun fumbled with the veil, trying to keep his face covered while lifting the cup to his lips. The infusion was fragrant and slightly sweet, and sent strength flowing back into him with every sip. He carefully withdrew the empty cup from beneath his face veil and smiled gratefully at Juan, realizing too late that the other man could not see his smile.

Juan stared keenly at Houjun. "Ri-san, you are not a member of the Kel Tagelmust. I've never seen any man of the Kel handle a face veil as clumsily as you."

Houjun flushed in embarrassment. He repressed the automatic denial, knowing that Juan would see through his lie. What was it that the Doctor always said? Oh yes: stick to the truth as much as possible when seeking to deceive. But then again, it might not be necessary to deceive Juan. The healer seemed trustworthy, his ki unclouded and strong, yet the Doctor had cautioned against giving out too much information. "There are many reasons a man may wish to pass unnoticed," he finally replied to the healer. "Not all of them involve evil-doing or shame."

Juan seemed satisfied with this answer. "I thought as much," he replied comfortably, pouring another cup of the infusion for himself. "Not only are you hopeless with the veil, but I recognize your accent. You grew up along the Kouga River, didn't you?"

Houjun nearly jumped. This healer was coming far too close to the truth of his identity. His mystical eyes must have darted around nervously, for Juan suddenly let out a hearty laugh and patted him soothingly on the arm.

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me." He leaned over and checked Shunu's pulse once again.

"But how did you know?"

"I'm good with accents; I travel through most of the villages in Northern Konan, and I've studied the speech patterns for my amusement. But I also have an advantage in your respect: I myself grew up in a village along the Kouga, so I recognize another river boy when I hear him."

Shun'u suddenly whimpered, so Houjun drew together his scattered thoughts and concentrated on the spell once more. The boy sighed, then quieted. Houjun looked up to find himself the object of another intense stare from Juan.

"Amazing. If only I could do what you can do."

"And if I could do what you can do, he wouldn't be suffering at this moment. My talents are…limited."

"As are mine. I suppose that it's a waste of time to play the brag game, then."

Houjun laughed in delight. It had been such a long time since he'd played the challenge game that was popular among the river boys. He held out his cup for a refill of the infusion, then tentatively threw out the first challenge. "This infusion is good. But if I made it with _my_ herbs, it would cure the blind."

Juan laughed, taking up the challenge. "Your turban and veil are very mysterious. But if _I_ wore a turban and veil, I would be so mysterious that all of the women of this village would line up for my favors!"

They continued with the game, pausing only to check on Shun'u or to trickle some of the infusion down his throat. Houjun was surprised to find that the diversion acted like a mental brace, increasing his psychic grip on the spell instead of distracting him. He and Juan took the boasts to higher and higher levels, resulting in ever more ludicrous claims of domination over the world, the heavens and even the gods themselves.

Finally Juan made his last boast. "And with my godly strength, my domination over the lands, the seas and the four gods, Suzaku, Byakko, Seiryuu, and Genbu, I would inspire everlasting passion in the breast of the Controller of the Universe, Taiitsukun herself!"

Houjun burst into howls of laughter, causing Juan to lift an eyebrow in confusion even as he grinned at his companion's merriment. Finally Houjun was able to choke out, "Have you ever_ seen_ Taiitsukun?"

"No," admitted Juan. "But I've heard stories of her powers and--"

"Well, I concede the match right now! You win, Juan: you win Taiitsukun in all of her passionate glory! I wouldn't _think_ of challenging you for her hand!"

Juan was a quick study, giving a rueful smile. "So she's that ugly, huh?"

"Oh, yes. Think of the ugliest person you've ever seen, cross that with various amphibian species, and you have a vague idea of how truly frightening she is!"

"You've certainly had a wide range of experiences," murmured Juan, shooting another assessing glance at Houjun. "Not many people can claim to have met the Oracle of the Four Gods."

"I travel a great deal." Houjun changed the subject. "So what is your home village like? Do they celebrate the Moonlight Festival in high summer?"

"They did." Juan's voice was suddenly soft with memory. "My village no longer exists, Ri-san. Just under two years ago, the entire village was destroyed when the Kouga River overflowed its banks after a particularly violent late season monsoon. I happened to be staying in a distant town while helping out with an epidemic, so I escaped harm, but my family and friends were not so fortunate."

Houjun's throat suddenly tightened with grief. So Juan had lost his family in the same flood that had claimed his own loved ones. It was strange, this sudden onrush of memories. In his not-so-distant past, he'd spent every free moment brooding about the flood and the tragedies that had surrounded it. However, for the past few weeks, the joys and demands of adventuring with the Doctor and Joss had pushed his personal pain to the back of his mind. Now the pain resurfaced with breathtaking speed, yet it was somehow different: duller, perhaps. The tragedies still made his heart ache, but his insides no longer roiled with stomach-churning guilt. Could he finally be healing?

Juan went on reminiscing quietly. "I lost everything and everyone I loved in that flood. I don't think I could've survived the pain if it hadn't been for a girl I knew; she and her family. They had also escaped the worst of the flood while visiting distant relatives. I'd been wandering through the village, turning over bodies, looking for my little brothers and sisters and parents. I think that I must've been half-mad with grief, when Shouka appeared out of nowhere and took me by the hand, leading me out of that stinking hellhole. Her family took me in and gave me a new home in a village near Mount Reikaku. We chose to move to the mountains, because none of us could bear the sight of the river after all it had taken from us."

Houjun blinked back tears. He'd never really thought about the hundreds, perhaps thousands of people who had suffered in that same flood. It was strange to hear his life story issuing from the mouth of a stranger, except…Juan hadn't killed his own best friend, had he? Houjun forced down the bitterness with an effort, trying to recall the Doctor's words of comfort. "Makes all the difference," he whispered to the flames,"all the difference."

"You too?" The healer's question was brief. Houjun nodded, unable to speak at the moment.

"So you know what it's like," continued Juan, almost dreamily. "Feeling as if you'd failed them, wondering why you deserved to survive. I don't think I _could_ have survived if it weren't for Shouka. She's my whole world now. As soon as I earn enough money to buy her the house she deserves, I'm going to marry her, and we're going to be happy for the rest of our lives. But I know one thing for certain: I know that I can't ever live through that kind of pain again. If anything ever happened to her, I think that I would just lie down and die."

"No!" Houjun startled Juan and himself with the vehemence of his reply. He softened his tone. "I'm not predicting that something is going to happen to your betrothed. What I mean to say is that we can't ever give up, no matter what how terrible and painful life may seem. I know the kind of pain that you are speaking of, Juan; believe me, I know. I think it's all right to run away from such pain, at least for awhile--but it's _not_ all right to give up entirely. Just when it seems that things are hopeless, people can come into your life and make it worth living again." Houjun thought about the Doctor and Joss, and yes, even Shun'u. "Never give up," he whispered to himself.

At that moment, they heard Shun'u suddenly choke and gasp, his tiny form convulsing beneath the rough blanket. The two men rushed to his side, Juan flinging aside the blankets and pressing his head to Shun'u's rapidly jerking chest. "His heart," he hissed in concern. "He's in crisis!"

Houjun closed his eyes and desperately reached for some spell, something, _anything!_ It was no use. He'd held off death as long as possible, but now Death had come to claim its due. Black despair washed over him and for some reason, he felt as if he were losing part of himself along with this child. Strong arms suddenly seized his shoulders and propelled him out the door of the house.

"There's only one thing that can be done!" panted Juan. "But I need privacy. I don't know if this is going to work and I don't know if it's dangerous to others, so please, Ri-san, close the door and wait outside!" Juan turned and raced back to Shun'u's helplessly convulsing form. Houjun did as commanded and pulled the door shut. Within seconds, another set of strong hands caught him and turned him around. He looked into the Doctor's panicked blue gaze.

"Shun'u--is he--?"

"In trouble. In very big trouble. There's nothing more I can do, Doctor. It's up to Juan now, but--why couldn't I have held on longer? It's only been one, maybe two hours. Oh, gods, why couldn't I--?"

"You've done everything you can, Houjun, more than anyone else could've done. You've surpassed what is humanly possible, so don't blame yourself…Hush!" The Doctor drew Houjun into a fierce embrace, letting the young man stifle his sobs against his robe.

Houjun felt a warm weight against his back and another pair of arms surround him from behind, and he knew that Joss was holding onto him as well. He lifted tearful eyes towards the little house and saw--

"Green," he muttered, surprised. Joss just sobbed, but the Doctor turned to follow his gaze. Yes, there it was: a soft green glow shining from the edges of the oiled paper windows, a muted radiance that suddenly sharpened and intensified. Bright green rays of light shot from every thin opening in the walls of the shack, piercing the darkness, making the three witnesses gasp and squint their eyes in pain--and just as suddenly disappeared, leaving the circle of houses in darkness once more.

Houjun, Joss, and the Doctor stood blinking in the darkness, waiting for the dancing spots before their eyes to fade, when the door of the tiny house creaked open slowly. The tall form of the healer filled the doorway, ducking his head as he passed through...then sagged wearily against the doorjamb. The Doctor hurried forward and caught Juan, holding him up in spite of being considerably smaller than him. Joss took in Juan's weary, defeated posture, and began to weep brokenly.

"No," muttered Juan, forcing his eyes open with an effort. "Don't cry--just go in…" He dropped his head again, as if it had cost him the last of his strength to utter those few words.

Houjun and Joss hurried into the house, dropping to their knees before the small, quiet form beneath the blanket. Joss touched Shun'u's forehead, gently brushing the red-gold bangs from his closed eyes--from the dark-lashed, unbruised eyes. She took in the golden glow of his skin, the gentle rise and fall of his thin chest. "Oh my God," she gasped and started crying again. "Oh God, thank you, _thank_ you, Suzaku, oh thank _God!"_

Houjun silently joined her in her prayer of thanksgiving, raising one hand to his face and basking in the sense of connection once more blessedly flowing between himself and this child.

****

Houjun handed a cup of the fragrant infusion to Juan, who leaned back against a tree, eyes half-closed in weariness. Joss kept fussing over the still sleeping child who had been gently moved to their campsite some distance into the woods, away from the quiet circle of small houses. She kept finding ways of touching Shun'u: adjusting his pillow, brushing his bangs, smoothing his blanket, as if she needed to reassure herself of the reality of him lying there whole, healthy--unbroken.

Houjun smiled at her maternal solicitude. No matter how much Joss pretended to dislike Shun'u, it was obvious that she cared about him deeply. It was yet another facet of her character that touched him: her outer toughness masking a soft and tender heart. He heard Juan sigh and turned his attention back to the exhausted healer. "Is the infusion all right?"

"Yes, it's fine. The tea helps; that, and a chance to rest."

"I'm certain you've heard this many times before, but I'm in awe of your abilities. In awe and abjectly grateful. If there's anything I can ever do for you in return; anything at all--"

"This tea and a comfortable place to sleep is thanks enough. This has to be the first time that anyone has ever given me a bedroll that actually fits me! Wherever did your friend find it?"

"Oh, the D…Sumisu-san has mysterious ways of his own." Houjun luckily remembered the Doctor's latest pseudonym.

"Sumisu-san, huh? Where has he gone, anyway?"

"Into the woods to…meditate." Houjun hedged his answer, having earlier spied the Doctor peering into the magic mirror and carrying on a whispered argument, apparently with himself. Once he became aware of Houjun's confused regard, the Doctor had waved cheerily and taken off deeper into the woods for greater privacy.

Juan yawned widely and stretched. Houjun was apologetic. "I don't mean to keep you awake, Juan. We have a tent set up over there if you would like to retire now."

"In a while," was the comfortable reply. Juan turned a bemused glance on his veiled companion. "You may think this is odd, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that we know one another. A very strange feeling, since I've never seen your face." Houjun flushed uncomfortably but was saved from answering by Juan's continued musings. "I have an even stranger feeling than that, however." His blue eyes turned towards Shun'u's recumbent form. "I keep getting the feeling that I'm going to be doing a lot of this in my future."

"Healing people?"

"No--healing _him:_ this boy in particular." Juan shrugged at the confused look in Houjun's eyes. "Like I said, it's a strange feeling, not a logical thought. And there's another overlying feeling, an inexplicable sense of--"

"Connection?"

"So you feel it as well. Must be real, then." Juan tried and failed to stifle another huge yawn. "However, right now I'm so tired that I'm not sure if I can testify to the reality of my own name. I guess it's tent time. I'll take the boy in with me to watch over him. For a few hours after each healing, I retain a fragile connection with each of my patients; it helps me monitor their condition even if I'm asleep."

Once Shun'u and Juan were settled in the tent, Juan dropped off almost immediately. Houjun watched over the two sleepers for a few moments, then returned to the campfire. Joss moved over to make room for him, smiling a little tentatively as he wearily dropped down beside her. "You must be totally wiped out."

"Mmmmm, a little. It's strange: ever since Shun'u's crisis, I feel as if I've been re-energized."

"You're still riding the adrenaline rush, that's all. Me, too, for that matter. Once it wears off--" Joss made a diving motion with her hand.

"Adrenaline rush?"

"Oh yeah, forgot that you don't know about that. Adrenaline is a substance your body releases into your blood when you're under extreme stress. Fight-or-flight response. It gives you a temporary burst of energy, enough for you to either overcome or get away from whatever is stressing you."

Houjun was impressed. "Does everyone in your world know so much?"

Joss laughed. "Nah, we just know different things than you do. I'll bet that any child in this village knows more than I do about what plants are safe to use for medicine and which ones can kill you or just make you itch. In my world, we know a lot about the human body because we're made to learn it in school."

"So you do go to school? Is it common among the women in your world?"

"Well, there are lots of different countries in my world, hundreds of different cultures, so not everyone has the same values--but in the most modern and advanced societies, it's as important for a woman to receive a thorough education as it is for a man. Where I live, women are expected to go to school at least until they're eighteen, and it's encouraged for them to keep going until they're twenty-one or twenty-two or even older."

Houjun thought it over. "It makes sense. When I think about it, many of the most intelligent people I've known in my life have been women. It doesn't seem right that we don't utilize their intelligence to the fullest extent here in Konan. It's not that we don't respect women; it's just that we--"

"Put them on a pedestal so that they can be both admired and kept out of the men's way." Joss' tone was mildly sarcastic. "Yeah, we were pretty much the same way in my country until the women fought a long battle to wrest the power from the almighty males. It's not a complete victory, and we still have many battles ahead of us, but at least we can get a complete education and qualify for the same jobs as the men."

A veiled and turbaned figure suddenly appeared on the other side of the fire, the flickering flames reflecting in his dark and mysterious eyes.

Joss patted the ground beside her. "Come and join us, Doctor."

The Doctor reached up and unhooked his face veil, yet in spite of the revealing gesture, his expression remained dark and unfathomable. The flames continued to flicker in his eyes as he turned his gaze to meet Houjun's.

"I have something to tell you. I must leave you now."

****

****

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

Rekka Shin'en! - "Divine Explosive Fire of the Gods!" (the tessen spell)

Jija - old man, grandfather

*

**Author's Notes: (7-10-03)** First of all… Happy Birthday, Bridge! One year old today!

Next: yes, I owe you all an apology for leaving you with a cliffhanger, then failing to return for over a _month!_ Bad Roku! But really, it wasn't my intention to be gone for so long…blah, blah, blah, Real Life, you know my same old refrain. Things aren't looking any better for the rest of the month, either; about the only thing I can promise is that I will keep working on my fanfics as diligently as I can, and I am not abandoning any of them.

Okay, to add to my list of sins, I then went ahead and gave away the "rescues" in the chapter title. Well, maybe not, if you're not familiar with "Genrou Den," the novel about Tasuki's early years. Once again, a big thank you to Tasuki no Miko for her online translation of Genrou Den, which serves as a valuable resource for my background research of Tasuki and the Mount Reikaku bandits. "Spirit Wolf" is Hakurou, the "old boss" of the Mount Reikaku bandits. If you want to see a picture of this handsome guy, I have it on my author page: the cover of Genrou Den.

Now for some fun references. First, for the Doctor Who fans: a sneaky reference to the Third Doctor (and sometimes the Seventh). The thing is, to find this reference, you have to understand the Japanese pronunciation of English names. Next, for the Fushigi Yuugi fans: did anyone catch a referral to Kouji? Not to mention Mitsukake's premonition of how many times he's going to have to put Tasuki back together again in the future: after the "kodoku battle," OVA 2, and of course, White Stones. And finally, the conversation between Joss and Houjun which connects into the end of Chapter 3 of "Hidden Paths." I just love continuity!

Oh, a quick note to Jack: I did so have Doctor Who references in Chapter 11! What about all the Ace stuff? Not only her TV storyline, but also her New Adventures arrival at Benny's wedding in "Happy Endings." But you're very astute; of course, the final scene in Chapter 11 had to close with a crash zoom on Joss, in the best cheesy "Doctor Who" cliffhanger fashion.

I want to thank all of you Bridge fans very warmly for your patience and loyalty. I will promise you one thing: the best is yet to come.

Till next time!

Ja ne!

Roku


	13. Misconceptions and revelations

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

Chapter 13. Misconceptions and Revelations

"I must leave you now."

Such quiet, simple words, thought Joss. The Doctor's voice was so quiet when he'd spoken them, and yet the words had struck them with the force of a bomb. She could see the violently churning emotions race across Houjun's features--disbelief, confusion, loss, grief--and knew that her own face was probably equally as distraught. How _could _the Doctor? They needed him, couldn't he see that? She drew in a deep breath, preparing to burst into frantic questions and cries of recrimination.

"For how long?" Equally simple words, equally quiet and controlled. Joss stared at Houjun, amazed at his ability to get to the crux of the matter despite his obvious distress.

"I'm not sure; I really don't know." The Doctor continued to stand across the fire from them, deliberately allowing the flickering light and shadow to mask his expression. "There is a problem…_I_ have a problem. There is much I haven't told you of the purpose of our travels, yet I'm certain you've gleaned this much on your own: there are places we must go to help people we don't know in ways often undefined. Although our actions may seem small or insignificant, they may have significant consequences in the future." He sighed, wearily rubbing his hand over his forehead. "We've always had too little margin for delays, and I'm afraid that this unforeseen trouble with Shun'u has placed us in an impossible situation. We must be in two separate locations by the end of this week: one in the west of Konan and one on Konan's eastern border. Unfortunately, I lack the sort of transport that would make this possible." He cast a brief and angry glance skyward. "So the only solution is for us to split our party in two, with me traveling to the west and you to the east, Houjun."

Houjun shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand. I have an idea of who is driving your mission, but why won't she--?" He stopped at a subtle shake of the Doctor's head. "Very well, I won't ask you any more on that subject…but how am I supposed to know where to go, who to find, and what to do when I get there? You've always been the one to guide us with the mirror."

The Doctor walked over and placed the mirror in Houjun's hands. "Here; you've used this tonight to bring Shun'u down the mountain, and I believe you understand its purpose. Just follow the paths that make the kanji brighter. When the signs begin to glow steadily with no flickering, you are very close. Then look for a young person in need, and…do what you do best, Houjun."

"But what will _you_ do, Doctor? If I have the mirror, how will you find your way to the west?"

"I am to follow the stars." The Doctor's voice sounded reassuring, and yet Josselin could sense the weariness beneath his confident words. Weariness and anxiety.

She couldn't contain herself any longer. "But what am _I_ supposed to do, Doctor? And what are we gonna do about Shun'u? I know that he's supposedly recovered, but is it safe to move him yet? And how will we all meet up again?"

The Doctor turned to face her, his position shielding his expression from Houjun. Joss swallowed hard as she saw the sad uncertainty in his eyes. '_He doesn't know if we will all meet again_,' she thought to herself. '_That's right: his other mission is to do something about Magus. Maybe this is his way to get Houjun out of the line of fire before he goes back to confront Magus and Kurayami.'_

The Doctor's voice cut in on her increasingly panicked thoughts. "You must do as you think best, Joss. You're welcome to travel with me, but you are also needed with this group. I cannot take Shun'u with me, so he must go with Houjun. All I can recommend is for you to do as your heart tells you." He smiled a sad, crooked smile at her.

At that moment, Joss felt her heart drop, and she knew that she loved him. A different kind of love than what she felt for Houjun, but love nonetheless. She stood blinking back tears as she hovered in indecision between two men who meant the world to her. Yes, the Doctor was planning to go into great danger, either now or a little later, and he might need her, but Houjun needed her, too. Not only Houjun, but now Shun'u as well. She turned a helpless, tear-filled gaze to the Doctor and was met with a radiant smile of approval.

"Yes," he breathed. "A very wise choice, Joss--and that's as it should be."

She couldn't help it; she rushed into his arms, holding tightly to him as if she could keep him here with them just by strength alone. She buried her face in his chest, somehow overcome by the feeling that this was _it_, this was the end, and they would never travel together again in their blithe and happy camaraderie.

Houjun stood frozen in place, gripping the mirror tightly as he fought down the lump in his throat. How he wished that he could be as open and direct as Joss, and take the Doctor as fiercely into his own arms. He sensed the finality in this parting even more than Joss did, and he was not blind to the uncertainty in the Doctor's ki. The Doctor didn't know if they would meet up again, so this might be the last time he saw his dearest friend.

That thought brought back the last time that he had thought he was bidding a final goodbye to the Doctor--and he was suddenly filled with helpless rage. "No!" He leapt forward and grasped the Doctor's hands, crushing Joss between them. Her eyes widened but she remained silent, letting Houjun speak uninterrupted. "I won't accept this! What's the point of all of your teaching, of all of the experiences that you've brought to me, if I remain just as helpless and passive as I was before we met? I don't accept that I must meekly bow to your will, Doctor, or to whoever controls your mission! I won't let it end like this! Remember that you promised me a reckoning--"

His voice trailed off as he finally made the connection that Joss had seen just seconds before. His voice wavered in disbelief. "That's your intention, isn't it? To confront Magus and Kurayami yourself--and leave me safely behind!" Now Houjun was in a towering rage. "I won't _have it!"_ he roared. "You have no _right_ to fight my battles for me! You have no right to leave me behind!"

The Doctor's voice remained mild, but his eyes gleamed as fiercely as Houjun's. "What makes you think that the battle belongs to you alone? And who else would you bring into danger?"

Houjun flushed but did not pull back. "Joss is free to make her own choices! I have no intention of letting you maneuver me out of the conflict out of guilt and misplaced responsibility. I expected better of you, Doctor, than to play that angle!"

The Doctor's temper was finally ignited. "I haven't lied to you about the urgency of our mission!" he shouted back at Houjun. "The needs of the children are very real, and every moment we waste here is another moment--!"

"Waste?" shouted Houjun. "I'm finally getting to the truth of this situation, and you call it a _waste?"_

"All right, time out!" Joss shoved hard, pushing both men back from where they had been shouting in one another's faces, freeing herself from their vise-like press. "Geez-loo-_WEEZ_, have I had it up to here with this testosterone-induced tandem tantrum!" She turned a fierce glare on the Doctor, raising a warning finger in his face. "And don't even _try_ to give me any shit about not having testosterone! You're not foolin' me, 'cause I can feel the difference, if you know what I mean!" The Doctor flushed and retreated, muttering to himself.

The same fierce gaze was turned on Houjun. "And _you! _If you don't want to be treated like a child, quit acting like one!"

Houjun's eyes went wide in shock. "What do you mean? Just because I won't accept tyrannical edicts--"

"There you go again, hurling accusations without bothering to get to the bottom of things!" Joss whirled on the Doctor. "And _you_ can quit looking so smug, Mister-Doctor-Know-It-All! Has it occurred to you that you provoked this childish behavior in Houjun by acting the part of the stubbornly recalcitrant parent?"

Both men grumbled, refusing to meet each other's eyes. Joss threw her hands up in aggravation. "All right, it looks like I'm the only adult present, so I guess it's up to me to sort things out. You first, since you started this whole thing!" She went up and poked the Doctor in the chest. "You can't just walk up, announce that you're leaving us maybe forever, and expect us to sit back quietly without any reaction! It's time that you started explaining," she intercepted his warning glance, "_as much as you can_, which I bet is a hell of a lot more than you _chose_ to tell us!"

The Doctor looked mutinous. "I am unused to having to explain my every last action to my companions."

Joss raised her eyebrows. "Is that so, Your Royal Highness? Who died and made you Emperor? As far as I'm concerned, you're one of _my_ companions, so you owe me an explanation!"

"One of _your_ companions? That's utterly absurd!"

"Is it? As far as I know, I got here under my own steam, so it's not as if I'm some hitchhiker on your wagon. As for Houjun, he's lived here all of his life, so it's not as if you gave him a ride, either."

The Doctor frowned as he tried to think of some argument around Joss' relentless logic. Houjun fought to keep his mask expressionless, sensing that Joss would berate him just as badly if she caught him smirking.

"Honk!" Joss' sarcastic bark made Houjun jump. "Time's up, now you have to answer: what exactly is the urgent situation at hand? Are we really needed on two opposite ends of the country at once?"

"Yes!" The Doctor sounded hurt. "I haven't lied to you about that. This isn't some fabrication to maneuver you two out of my way."

"All right, apology accepted." Joss continued over the Doctor's sputtering protests. "But here's the key question: is it really necessary that you go on after this to confront the baddies all by yourself? Or is that your own private plan, no celestial mandates involved?"

"Well, I…you see, I thought…it's really for the best that I…"

Houjun exploded again. "That's exactly what I thought!"

Joss whirled and caught him by one ear, shocking him. "Act like a child, get treated like a child!" she barked. "Now do you want to get to the bottom of this, or would you rather spend the last few minutes we have left together pitching another abandonment hissy fit?"

Houjun flushed, humiliated by her apparently low opinion of him, and subsided into silence.

Joss released him and turned to the Doctor again. "Look, regardless of who is whose companions, the fact is that we're a team. A team that, I will admit, you've played a large role in creating. However, since all of us are technically adults here, it means that _you_ don't get to make unilateral decisions concerning our welfare without our input. Right now, I think that I can speak for Houjun when I say that you're out-voted two-to-one on the tackling of the Magus situation. We go in together as a team--or we all go in separately, which will probably end up with us seriously screwing each other up."

"But, Joss, I have no idea as to how long my mission in the west will take, nor do you have any greater knowledge of your mission in the east! I can't say when or where we will have the opportunity to meet again--and what will you do with Shun'u?"

"That's why we make what are called contingency plans." Joss spoke slowly and clearly, as if to a child. "After our mission in the east, we take Shun'u home; sufficient time should've passed for him to be welcomed home with open arms as opposed to closed fists. Then we'll plan to meet, umm, let's say at the lake where we first found him. We wait for exactly one day, and then…here!" Joss grabbed the edge of her already torn shirt from beneath her nomadic robe and tore off a long strip of cloth from the hem. Houjun watched miserably, suddenly remembering the trauma that Joss had suffered earlier tonight, trauma that he was unable to prevent.

She handed the strip of cloth to the Doctor. "If we don't show up within one day, leave this cloth tied to a tree or shrub. That way, we'll know that you got there before us, and we won't waste time waiting for you. In the same way, look around for another strip of this same material, in case we got there before you. If we somehow miss each other, the contingency plan is to meet up again at Saihitei's palace. I'm sure that he'll be happy to see us again, not to mention that he could possibly provide us with some military might when we return to the school."

"Military strength may not be the answer, Joss."

"What-_ever!_ We can discuss strategies when we get back to the palace; the point is that we now have a plan as to when and where we will meet up again. Now was that so hard?"

Houjun looked down again, embarrassed, but the Doctor suddenly flashed a wide smile at Joss. "Absolutely not! A plan elegant in its simplicity. In fact, I'm surprised that I didn't think of it myself."

Joss' tone was wry. "Let's just say that you and magician-boy here suffer from certain hormonal handicaps. Listen, I'm gonna duck into the tent and choose some warmer clothes as well as check up on our two sleepers, so that will give you two a chance to kiss and make up. Be good, now!" With that, she whirled around and left the two men standing bemused at the fire.

The Doctor took the lead. "Er, Houjun…"

The young magician turned wide eyes on the Doctor. "Are we…are we really supposed to…kiss?"

The Doctor laughed merrily. "It's just an expression, Houjun, like 'ants in the pants.' She means that we are to make peace with one another."

"Oh." Houjun was unsure if he felt relieved or…He cleared his throat. "In that case, I really do apologize, Doctor."

"Oh no, the fault was all mine, as Joss quite rightly pointed out. However, I must say, deep inside I was pleased to see such a show of spirit in you! You're right; you _have_ grown well past mindless capitulation to another's will. Good work!"

Houjun mumbled an embarrassed but pleased rejoinder. The Doctor continued to stare after the disappearing Joss. "You know," he burst out suddenly. "Estrogen is rather a wonderful substance, when you think about it!"

"Estrogen?"

"It's a minute substance in the blood that makes a woman a woman."

Houjun stood beside the Doctor and stared back at the tent with him. "But the question is, what is the substance that makes Joss...Joss?"

The Doctor laughed again. "Oh, I doubt science will ever be able to elucidate that!" He leaned in and murmured conspiratorially to Houjun. "I suspect that there may be magic involved!"

****

Shortly thereafter, the Doctor departed for the west, leaving them with Houjun's horse and the pack pony for Shun'u, taking only what he could fit in the saddlebags of his own horse. It was a much warmer parting than the previous one, with affectionate hugs and handshakes and cheerful promises to meet up again soon.

However, Houjun could not shake the feeling of dark foreboding at the dissolution of their fellowship, even if it was only temporary. He felt uneasy and depressed again as he looked around at their Doctor-less camp, and frustrated at his inability to put his finger on what worried him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was now solely responsible for the welfare of Shun'u and Joss. He sneaked a peek at her, then dropped his eyes quickly when she stared back at him curiously.

"All right, you're doing it again, Houjun."

He kept his eyes downcast. "Doing what?"

"Refusing to look at me. You did that earlier tonight, and now you're at it again. If you're mad at me, I wish that you would just come out and tell me."

Houjun shot a startled glance at Joss. "I'm not angry with you. I just wondered…why you chose to travel with me instead of the Doctor." He cast his eyes down again. "It's a decision you may come to regret."

"What? What the hell are you talking about? Aren't we close friends, you and me? At least that's the way you _used_ to treat me, up until--" Joss drew in a sudden sharp breath. "Oh, _now_ I get it. You don't want anything to do with me ever since I offered to go with Eiken." Her voice dropped. "Guess I crossed the line there without realizing it. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should've found out whether I was wanted here before I opened my mouth and told the Doctor that I was staying with you."

Houjun was overtired, overstressed, and without his usual emotional control. "That's not what I was talking about! Do you think that I'm so stupid that I didn't realize why you were offering to sacrifice yourself? I'm not blaming you for anything; I blame _myself!_ If I can't bring myself to look you in the eyes, it's because _I'm_ ashamed--ashamed of failing you!"

"Failing me? How did you fail me?"

"I wasn't there for you, was I? It wasn't me who got you out of the clutches of that animal!"

"No, it wasn't. You were just a little tied up--with saving Shun'u's life! What is your problem, Houjun? Are you always this self-centered?"

"Self-centered?" Houjun was shocked. That was one fault that no one had ever accused him of before.

"Exactly! You act like you're a god or something! You act like you're responsible for _everything_, so then you take the blame for everything. Did it ever occur to you that people can be responsible for their own lives and choices? I knew what I was doing back there! By staying with Shun'u and getting him out of there, you made everything I went through worthwhile. If you would've staged a heroic rescue, I might have been saved by you instead of the Doctor, but in the end, Shun'u would have died. So explain to me why you prefer that outcome."

Houjun opened and closed his mouth a few times, wrestling with Joss' relentlessly logical condemnation of his attitude. Could she be right? Was his self-castigation really narcissism in disguise? How humiliating if that were true! He stammered out a weak defense. "I…I'm sorry, Joss, but I didn't want to see you get hurt again. I felt like I was just standing by, not helping--"

"Whoa!" interrupted Joss. "What do you mean, again? When have you ever hurt me?"

"Not me! I meant earlier in your life; you said that…" Houjun stopped, his flush apparent even in the flickering firelight.

Joss frowned in confusion. "Earlier in my life? When did I say--?" Suddenly she turned as red as her companion. "You're talking about the throne room, aren't you? What I shouted; that's right, I shouted it into your face!" She pulled at her hair in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to imply…I wasn't…oh, shit, I was never raped, Houjun!"

Houjun stared desperately into the flames, willing them to somehow rescue him from this disastrous foray into Joss' personal life. "You don't have to explain anything to me," he ventured miserably. There was a moment of silence in which he suddenly wondered if he sounded judgmental or uncaring. "I mean...there's more than one way to get hurt, Joss: broken promises, for one."

"Oh, Houjun." Her voice was low and sympathetic. "I'd like you to go on thinking the best of me, that I was some poor girl misled and jilted by a lover, but it wasn't that way at all. Listen, um...things are different in my time and country. Virginity isn't as highly prized as it used to be. In fact, I was the butt of jokes among my friends for being a 'late-starter.' They used to tease me, asking me if I thought it was increasing in value the longer I held onto it."

Houjun bit his lip. He should say something to let her know that she didn't have to tell him this, but something in him wanted to know. Something that gnawed at him, making him feel the ghosts of long-ago pain: jealousy, bitterness…inadequacy. '_Half a man,' _whispered a distant, mocking voice--and he firmly pushed it back. Why should he feel jealous? Whatever Joss ended up telling him, it had happened long before she met him, so it wasn't as if she'd betrayed him. Not unless…unless she was still in love with the man.

"Houjun, this isn't easy, but you're making it damn near impossible by refusing to look at me!"

He finally met her eyes. "You don't have to tell me anything," he repeated numbly.

"Yes, I do! I don't know why I feel like I have to, but I _want _to tell you. And since I'm not nice like you, I'm going to make you listen to me." She took a deep breath, then plunged ahead, keeping her eyes fixed on his. "There was this boy, er, I mean, young man. Nice enough, I guess. We were dating, and he was good-looking, and my friends kept going at me, so I thought…well, why not. So we did, and it wasn't great, but it wasn't awful either. So I thought, well, the first time isn't supposed to be so great anyway; give it another chance. So we did for awhile, but it never got any better. And he started to get serious about me but I was already tired of him, so I ended it. He didn't understand it--and neither did I, not for a long time. I thought that I might be one of those women who never liked…well, I thought it was my fault. And it was, but not for any physical reason."

Joss took her courage in both hands, and reached out and grasped Houjun's hand. To her relief, he didn't pull away. "You see, I had it wrong. I thought that all the songs and poems were a lot of made-up nonsense by people who were more into sex than I was. It took me awhile, but I finally figured out what was missing. I never loved him, Houjun. The passion and the rapture and everything else that sex is supposed to be wasn't there--because_ I _wasn't there. Not my heart, anyway. I finally realized that, just…recently."

Houjun caught his breath, mesmerized by the passion blazing from Joss' eyes as she stared into his. His heart was pounding so hard that he thought it might burst from his chest. He struggled to form words around his breathless excitement, because he needed to know. "When…_when_ did you realize this?"

She smiled a trembling smile at him, her eyes shining with tears and with her characteristic honesty. "When I met you, Houjun. When just being near you made me feel the fire. When I realized that I loved you."

He shouldn't lose control like this, thought some dim part of Houjun's mind as he lunged across the space between them and pulled Joss into his arms. He should ask her what she wanted, not just seize her lips and plunge into the sweet warmth of her mouth. But she opened for him, her arms grasping him as desperately as he grasped her, her tongue passionately meeting and stroking his. Oh, gods, had he ever felt this fire before? She was so soft, all of her hard spiky defenses melting beneath his touch as she gave herself to him completely--and the more she gave, the more he wanted, needed, _had_ to _have _her! He knew he was being almost too aggressive, but she was more than just yielding to him; she was matching him passion for passion, encouraging him with breathless moans, fervent caresses. He pushed against her, pushing his hardness against her, but she didn't move away. Instead, she pulled him deeper against her, writhing sensuously against him, running her fingers through his hair--

"Ah, shit, this is disgusting! Let a guy leave ta catch a little sleep, an' you two are all over each other! If I didn't feel sick b'fore, I sure feel sick now!"

They broke off their kiss with as much violence as they started it, panting as they struggled to regain control. Joss leaned her forehead against Houjun's chest, gasping in short, sobbing breaths. "Please, Houjun, you have to understand: I _have_ to hurt him!"

Houjun choked out something between a laugh and a groan. "No, you can't do that, Joss! He's just recovered from a life-threatening injury."

"Life-threatening injury? _I'll_ give him a life-threatening injury!"

"Joss!"

"Oh, all right, I won't knock him in the head, but at least let me give him a good, hard pinch."

Houjun laughed. "No!"

"Okay, then how about a rope burn?"

"Rope burn?"

"Like this." Joss grasped Houjun's forearm with both hands and turned each hand in the opposite direction so that the skin was twisted in between.

"Ow, ouch! No, you can't do that, either!"

"Damn it!" Joss grumbled, finally pushing away from Houjun now that she could feel that he was back under control. She turned a baleful glare on their small, red-haired witness. "In case you didn't notice, you little shit, you just came closer to death right now than at any time over the past week--and that's saying a lot, considering your talent for getting yourself into trouble! What the hell are you doing out of bed?"

Shun'u rubbed his arms, his thin legs sticking out beneath the simple shirt they had wrapped him in. His hair stood up in wild spikes around his head before cascading down in the silken red-gold river that ran down his back, and his amber eyes were wide and distressed. He looked very much like an orphan: an orphan girl, to be precise.

"I, uh…I, uh, just thought I'd letcha know that there's some big, giant weirdo sleepin' in our tent. I thought I'd check on ya guys an' make sure yer all right b'fore I went back ta beat th' shit outta him."

Joss groaned, grasping her head as she thought about the narrowly averted disaster of Shun'u taking a stick to his slumbering savior. However, Houjun noted Shun'u's shivering form and anxious glances back at the tent, and knew that the boy had been frightened by waking up next to a stranger.

"There's no need for you to do that, Shun'u; Juan is a friend who is staying with us for the night. Why don't you sit down with us, and we'll explain everything to you." Houjun seated himself before the fire and motioned for Joss and Shun'u to join him.

"Ah, crap!" muttered Joss as Shun'u happily wriggled in between them.

"So…" Shining amber eyes beamed up at both of them. "Anything interestin' happen while I was sleepin'?"

****

Shun'u lay with his head pillowed on Houjun's lap, his brilliant hair catching the feeble glow of the dying fire. A hand reached out and hesitantly stroked the long fiery locks. Houjun smiled. "It's all right; he's finally asleep."

Joss pulled back her hand as if she had been burned. "I wasn't…I didn't…I just wanted to check that he was really out this time!"

Houjun's smile widened. "You don't have to be embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with caring about him."

"I don't! Well, maybe I do a little, but most of the time, I _really_ don't like him."

"Mm-hm. That's why you were willing to make any sacrifice for him, and why you were in tears when you thought we might lose him."

"Well, all right, so maybe I don't want to see him dead, contrary to my usual threats. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to adopt him."

"And you also called him your little brother--"

"Shhhhh!" Joss waved her hands frantically. "What if he hears you?"

"What does it matter? There's no need to be ashamed, Joss. Speaking your heart is a wonderful thing."

There was something wistful and a little sad in Joss' eyes as she met his gaze. "Is it?"

"Yes, it is," reassured Houjun, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek.

She closed her eyes under his gentle touch, rubbing her cheek against his hand like a cat. "I wasn't sure if you…if what I said made you happy or…"

Houjun laughed. "Could I be any clearer about how happy you've made me?"

_'Yes,'_ thought Joss to herself. _'You could say you love me, too.'_ She rebuked herself for her greediness; after all, hadn't his response given her more than she'd ever hoped for? She turned her face into his hand again, suddenly repressing a yawn.

Houjun looked at her, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. He hadn't been the only one to suffer through this whole misadventure--and he was being selfish, wanting to keep her awake and near; wanting to talk to her, touch her…

"I think it's time I put both of you back in the tent."

Joss looked startled. "What about you? You look pretty exhausted yourself."

"There isn't enough room, with Juan asleep in there. Don't worry about me, Joss; I'll rest while meditating out here."

"Won't you be cold?"

"No. I'll re-veil myself, since the Doctor seemed to feel that it was important that I keep my face concealed. Although I feel strongly that we can trust Juan, I'll follow the Doctor's advice. He must have his reasons."

"I was hoping we could talk awhile, just you and me."

Houjun laughed at the slightly disgruntled tone of Joss' voice. "Joss, we have all the time in the world to talk; all the time we need. Get some sleep before you collapse--and that's an order!"

"Aye, Captain!" she barked back sarcastically. Yet she didn't argue with him, crawling into the tent and accepting Shun'u's recumbent form from his arms. Houjun smiled, watching her settle the boy carefully into his sleeping roll next to Juan. He backed out of the tent doorway, pausing just before closing the flap to see Joss bend down and press her lips to the boy's forehead.

Houjun stoked the fire again, then rewound his turban about his head, draping the veil across his face. Assuming a meditative posture, he slowly released the tension from each muscle group until he felt completely relaxed. He closed his eyes; although it was still dark, he could hear the sleepy stirrings and isolated chirps of the earliest-rising birds. Dawn was not far off, then; this endless night was nearly over. How much had changed in his life in the space of a few hours! The near-death of Shun'u, the strange rapport with Myou Juan, the Doctor leaving, the assignment of a new mission, and most of all, Joss. Especially Joss.

He went over her words again in his mind, savoring them like a fine wine. Yes, the passion between them was intoxicating--he paused to take a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart--but the thing that stirred him to the very depths of his being was the thought that she had found him worthy of her devotion. _She_ loved _him._

He had little experience of females, but he was insightful enough to realize that Joss was no ordinary woman. She was brave and brash, reckless and startlingly tender, capable of the harshest scolds and the softest words of comfort. She lived fearlessly, risking anything and everything for those she loved--and he now knew that he was the one who had astoundingly won her heart.

A soft, wondering laugh escaped him. How had he achieved this miracle? He didn't even know what it was that drew her to him. If anything, he'd expected her to become enamoured of the Doctor. They were so much alike: both of them powerful personalities full of courage, laughter, and compassion. He felt shy and dull between the two, but perhaps he was not as uninteresting as he thought. After all, from the very start she'd looked at him with eyes shimmering with feeling. He hadn't understood it then, but perhaps he understood it now.

He caught his breath as new revelations flashed through his mind. He had shied away from these thoughts in the past, fearful that they would make him too self-conscious around her, but…could she possibly know _everything_ about him? His bitter past, his dark crimes, his scars? He forced down the familiar feelings of guilt and grief, pursuing the line of thought that danced so tantalizingly before him. _Did_ she know everything about him--and yet love him all the same?

He felt almost dizzy with shock. If this were true, then she loved the _real_ him. The flawed man he truly was, not the unscarred innocent he pretended to be. He pushed that thought back, not trusting the bright future that beckoned beyond. What did it matter? Even if she didn't know his past, he would make himself worthy of her. He would become the man she thought he was, and he would give her everything.

Houjun felt strength and determination and a long-forgotten feeling that he finally recognized as optimism flowing through him. Not even the inevitable confrontation with Magus could dampen his high spirits. He was a whole man at last, a warrior willing to fight for his lady and his life, and those that intended to oppose him had best beware! Of course, to be honest, they had best beware of his lady as well. He repressed a laugh; he knew her too well to expect her to wait patiently in the background while he went on to fight alone. Oh no, not Joss!

Bowing his head, he closed his eyes, his thoughts becoming more jumbled and random. He and Joss…laughing…loving… children? Somehow Shun'u became mixed up in this reverie. No, he was too old to be their son, but still… The Doctor smiling over them all…Myou Juan coming to visit, placing his hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently…"Ri-san? Ri-san, I must leave now." _But you've only just arrived!_ he protested mutely--then jerked awake.

The sun was halfway up the sky, bright golden beams streaming through the trees. Houjun blinked in confusion; had he really been asleep for that long? It seemed that he had closed his eyes only moments ago. Yet the sun didn't lie, nor could he deny the reality of the tall figure casting his shadow across him.

Houjun struggled to his feet, readjusting his turban and veil. He could see white teeth flash in the shadowed face as the familiar deep tones sounded with surprisinging gentleness from such a large man. "Part of me wanted to leave without waking you, but--some other part of me wanted to say good-bye. At least for now."

"Must you go so soon?" asked Houjun wistfully, then blushed as he realized the lateness of the hour. "I mean, Joss and Shun'u would probably like to--"

"Sleep for a few more hours," finished Juan, laughing. "Don't worry, my patient seems perfectly fine, snoring away happily."

"Yes, he had awakened for a while last night; that's why he's so tired today."

"Well, let him sleep. He will reawaken in his own time. But I didn't stay to offer medical advice, Ri-san."

"I know," finished Houjun. "It's that connection again, isn't it?"

"Yes. I suppose I wanted to see if it was still real in the bright light of day." Warm blue eyes met brown, and the two men smiled. All that could be seen of Houjun's smile, however, was the crinkling of his eyes.

Houjun felt a strange sinking feeling inside at yet another parting. It was strange he felt so strongly that Juan was his friend after just a few hours' acquaintance, yet the feeling was undeniable. He was tempted to unveil, but the Doctor's instructions had been adamant.

"Don't worry. Some day, we will meet again, all veils and shadows cast aside." Juan once again tracked easily with Houjun's thoughts. It wasn't an invasion of his privacy, however; it was more like a meeting of kindred souls.

Houjum was suddenly filled with optimism again. "Yes, I feel sure of that as well. Take care, Myou Juan, until we meet again! Send my best wishes to your lady."

"And you as well, to _your_ lady. Farewell, River-Boy!" Myou Juan laughed, turning and moving quickly into the distance with long, measured strides. Houjun stood still, watching the tall figure as it grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared from sight.

****

"It's just not fair!" groused Joss as they waited for Shun'u to pop out from behind a tree up ahead. "Every time I think that I'm alone with you, bam! There he is! It's like it's his mission in life to keep us apart! You know, from what my married friends tell me, this is just like being a parent but without the fun part."

"The fun part?" Houjun was hard put to conceal his grin. Joss was so hilarious whenever she went off on one of her rants - and even _less_ guarded than usual. He was always certain to get some startling insight just by listening to her.

"Yeah, the _fun_ part: the conception part for one! Then there's the planning and dreaming and picking out names…but nooooooooo, not for me! It's like God's big joke: 'Hey, Joss, you think that you've finally found The Guy? Guess what; we'll skip the whole romance part, and I'll just land you with a Shun'u! All mouth and adolescent attitude - and _you_ get to be the parent! Have fun, y'all!' Gyaaahhhh!"

Houjun lost his struggle for control, laughing out loud. As usual, Joss didn't take offense, grinning back at him.

They had been traveling eastward for several days now, and Joss and Shun'u had settled into a routine of bickering almost every other hour. Houjun had at first felt stressed by their constant quarrels but soon realized that the two headstrong personalities actively enjoyed their frequent conflicts. So he had abandoned any attempts at peace-making and just sat back and laughed as they let their barbs fly.

This particular bit of bad temper from Joss was due to a quarrel that began the previous night. Joss had grown weary of washing Shun'u's eternally dirt-filled clothes. She had flung the clothes at the boy, saying that he would be less likely to roll around in the dirt if _he_ were responsible for the laundry. In a fit of temper, Shun'u had grabbed all the clothes he could find and scrubbed them in a nearby river. Upon waking, Joss found that nearly every outfit she owned was clean - but soaking wet.

This resulted in Joss and Shun'u being stuck in her last two gifts from Saihitei: ultra-feminine party clothes. Shun'u had howled in outrage at being forced into the floral-embroidered tunic, but Joss had cuffed him upside the head and snarled that he either wore those clothes or nothing at all. She herself was angry at having to don a pair of puffy pantaloons that accentuated her already generous hips. Shun'u had cheered up upon seeing her in the ridiculous outfit and had improved his temper by firing several insults at her regarding those hips.

Houjun held up a hand, interrupting Joss' rant as he stared into the mirror. Shun'u sensed his absorption and reappeared, quietly rejoining them as they followed a dirt path through the thinning woods. Severed tree stumps indicated that they were approaching human habitation. They dismounted as they approached the edge of the woods.

The path led to the outskirts of what appeared to be a sprawling but poor village. There were no large, fine houses--only modest wooden dwellings punctuated by occasional groups of flimsy hovels. Houjun kept his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the mirror, watching the kanji for "infant," "power," and "oni" fade into one another, flickering brighter each time they made their appearance. He couldn't make sense of the meaning of the kanji. "Oni…infant…" he whispered to himself. "A little ghost? And power?" Joss and Shun'u trailed him, Shun'u silent for once, sensing the importance of Houjun's concentration.

Suddenly they heard voices: a young, pleading male voice answered by a harsh older voice. Houjun signaled to his companions, and they drew quietly closer, keeping just out of sight within the line of trees.

They saw a youth of perhaps Shun'u's age, although he was about a head taller and sturdier than the wispy redhead. He had long midnight blue-black hair caught in a simple ponytail, and his clothes, although rough and worn, were clean. He carried a bundle tied to his chest and seemed to be pleading with a harsh-faced old crone standing near the circle of hovels.

"Please," the boy entreated. "Just some milk from your goat. I'll work for it, I promise! I'll milk your goat and chop wood and…and do anything you ask! You know me--you know I'll work as hard as you want!"

The crone shook her head. One of her eyes shifted strangely, the orb a milky blue-white. "No, young Sou, I don't need your labor; I can take care of my own. As for you, if you don't have any money, you would do better to go and beg in the next town."

The youth flushed in humilation. "I'm not begging! I offered to pay for the milk! But please, obaa-san, my sister won't live long enough for me to make the journey."

"Just as well!" the harsh old voice rang out. "Better to let her die now…better now than later!"

The boy sucked in a breath, his hands going to the bundle at his chest. The travelers suddenly realized that he was holding a tiny infant close to his body. "Fuck!" hissed Shun'u and suddenly took off with his extraordinary speed before Joss could grab him.

He startled the boy and the crone with his sudden appearance between them. "Listen, Babaa, why dontcha shut yer ugly trap an' jus' give the kid what he's askin' for?! It ain't like it's gonna kill ya or nothin'!"

The woman turned her mismatched eyes on the first youth. "Who is this girl?" she hissed, obviously angry at Shun'u's abuse.

"I never saw her before in my life!" stammered the boy, his huge grey eyes wide with shock.

"I ain't no fuckin' GIRL!" Shun'u's high-pitched shriek did little to support his claim. He balled up his fists but was immediately restrained by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Please accept my apologies for my young companion's outburst." Houjun's voice was placating and gentle, yet Shun'u yielded to the underlying authority beneath the soft tones. He subsided, settling for muttering angrily beneath his breath.

Joss tried to follow Houjun's lead. "Excuse me, obaa-san, but we're just travelers passing by, and we thought that perhaps we could help?" She hoped that the mild inquiry would defuse some of the tension.

The old woman squinted suspiciously at the three strangers, pausing to gaze intently at Houjun's mystically masked visage. She suddenly shuddered and backed up into her doorway. "No!" she denied. "I already told the boy 'no,' so--leave me alone!" She pulled the door shut, the thin wood vibrating as a bar was dragged across.

The young boy bit his lip, fighting back tears that were rising in his extraordinary grey eyes. A weak, mewling cry came from the infant at his breast, and he lifted the child closer to his body, cradling it with experienced hands.

Joss moved closer. "May I?" she asked gently, and the youth nodded, blinking rapidly. Joss pulled back the rough cloth that proteced the baby's head from the summer sun…and sucked in a breath at the tininess of the child. She looked at the lips pursing, sucking at empty air, and gently pinched the baby's dry skin, watching the skin stay up in the fold instead of smoothing out. "Houjun," she hissed,"this baby is severely dehydrated!"

Houjun moved in, but his focus was on the boy. "How old is she?"

"Three days," the boy fought to keep his voice steady.

"And your mother?"

"Dead." The simple word was choked with grief. Suddenly, a torrent of words poured out of the boy, tumbling over one another, suffused with desperation. "I ran to get the healer from the next town, but it was four leagues away! By the time we got back, she was already dead, but the baby…my sister was still alive! The healer took all my money just for making the journey, even though he didn't do anything for my mother, and then said that he couldn't do anything for the baby unless I had more money! I didn't, so he left, and…and…I didn't have any money left to buy milk, so all I could do was give her water, and…" The boy choked off a sob.

"You've done very well, " Houjun praised, giving the boy time to regain his control. Joss forced back angry tears at how the poor boy had been robbed. Shun'u had come to the same conclusion, muttering, "Fuckin' quack!" while swiping surreptitiously at his eyes. "Your sister is still alive because of your actions, and we intend to help you keep her that way. What is the baby's name?"

"Yuiren. I named her, because Mother…" the boy caught his breath and forced himself to continue, "and Father is ill and is hardly conscious because of the pain."

"I take it that this woman owns the only source of milk in the village - a goat, did you say?"

"Yes. There are a few other women with babies, but this has been a bad year, with the raids from Kutou and the drought. No one has enough food, so they turned me away, saying that they had barely enough milk for their own babies. I thought that maybe Old Hitomi-san would exchange some goat milk for work, but… And I don't think I have enough time to work somewhere else to get the okane!"

Houjun glanced at the baby and privately agreed. However, there was no point in making the boy feel worse. "And your name?"

"Kishuku."

"Well, Kishuku, let's see if we can get Hitomi-san to listen to reason." Houjun rapped on the cheap wooden door but received no answer. He frowned for a moment - and in that brief pause, Shun'u had flashed past him and was banging on the door, screaming, "Open up, you old bitch!"

Houjun pulled Shun'u aside. "Shun'u, you will be silent and let me handle this! Do you really think that personal insults will make her more sympathetic to this baby's plight?"

Shun'u jutted out his chin at the reprimand. "Well, she ain't 'xactly fallin' over herself ta help out right now. An' from what I can see of th' squirt, we ain't got much time left. Sometimes ya gotta scare th' shit outta people b'fore they find it in their hearts ta be generous!"

Houjun frowned into Shun'u's obstinate glare, mulling over his words. Meanwhile, Kishuku leaned toward Joss. "That has to be the foulest-mouthed little girl I've ever met!" he whispered. Joss signaled Kishuku to keep quiet, waiting to see the outcome of the conflict between Houjun and Shun'u.

"All right," Houjun finally conceded. "There may be something in what you say. But first, we'll try it my way one more time." Kishuku's eyes widened at how the older man seemed to respect the opinion of the fiery youngster. Houjun turned and rapped on the door once again. "Gomen nasai, Hitomi-san, but we would like to have a word with you. Please, obaa-san, we would like to barter with you for the use of your goat." In spite of the tempting use of the word "barter," the door remained obstinately closed.

Houjun met Shun'u's critical gaze and sighed. Lifting his hand vertically before his face, he chanted a brief spell. There was the sound of the bar falling, then the thin door slammed open. "Fuck!" exclaimed Shun'u in admiration, earning him another surprised glance from Kishuku.

The figure of the old woman was a shadowed, hunched shape near the rear wall of her hovel. Thin slits of daylight seeped through the cracks in the wall, enabling the travelers to see that she was holding up a few tattered pieces of paper. "Demon, begone!" she quavered at Houjun, trying to ward him off with the crumpled demon wardings.

"Please, Hitomi-san, I don't intend to harm you." Houjun's voice was gentle and reassuring. "I'm sorry I had to use force, but you refused to listen any other way. I'm no demon; I'm just a simple traveler asking for the chance to be heard."

The old woman stood straighter at Houjun's reassurance but did not drop her guard. "If you're no demon, then why can I see dark power around you? The power to destroy _souls!_"

Houjun and Joss froze i shock, while Kishuku drew away from them, his eyes growing wide in fear as he placed his hands protectively around his infant sister.

"Yeah, well, if you can see that, Babaa, then ya better listen ta him b'fore he curses ya ta _death!"_

The old woman sucked in a breath, while Joss leaped forward and clamped a hand over Shun'u's mouth. "I'm sorry for my young friend's words, obaa-san; please pay no attention to him! Ri-san is a good man who would never hurt you. We just don't understand…we would appreciate it if you would explain _why_ you refuse to help an innocent baby."

Hitomi-san stood straight and pointed a shaking finger at Kishuku cradling his sister. Her blue-white eye rolled in agitation. "Why, you ask me! It's plain to see! This child is doomed to die!"

Kishuku's face paled with shock and grief. Shun'u twisted in Joss' grip and bit her hand with his sharp fangs. She yelped and released him, allowing a flood of abuse to come pouring from him. "You're full of shit! She won't die if ya get up off yer ass and help out, Babaa! Ya don't even hafta do anythin' - the kid here said he'd do all th' work!"

"I don't mean now!" The old woman jabbed her finger accusingly at Houjun. "You, who can see into souls, can you not see the darkness in her future? The child bears the sign of water! Her life will be short and filled with hardship!"

Houjun held out a placating hand. "I do not have the gift of future sight, Hitomi-san. But even if I did, I would not be so quick to condemn this child. The future can change, as well you know…and your words give pain to her brother."

Although he struggled to control himself, Kishuku was losing the battle with his emotions. Slow tears were leaking from the huge grey eyes. For some reason, this sight sent Shun'u into a frenzied rage. "BITCH!" he shrieked at Hitomi-san. There was nothing for it; Joss tackled him and pinned him to the ground, covering his mouth with both hands.

"Hssstt!" she warned in an undertone. "I think that Houjun's getting through to her, so _shut up!"_ Shun'u stopped his struggles, although his eyes still blazed with fire.

Hitomi-san looked away from Kishuku's face. "Better now," she whispered. "The pain of her death will be easier now…instead of later." She walked backwards, feeling her way to a familiar corner. In the darkness, Houjun could make out a small wooden bed. Hitomi-san reached back with her hand, and without looking, lifted a tiny, worn robe. It was a child's robe, lovingly embroidered with flowers and birds, proclaiming the owner to be a young girl.

Houjun's expression saddened with understanding, while the entangled figures of Joss and Shun'u grew quiet and still. The old woman clutched the robe to her breast and spoke in a sad, flat monotone.

"Each day she lives, you will come to love her more. She will love you back and become your entire world. And when she dies, your world will end and you will face hell: the hell made up of thousands of days spent looking for her smile, listening for her laughter…and finding only emptiness." She lifted her asymmetric gaze to Kishuku's face. "So you see, young Sou, I do not seek to hurt you; I seek to spare you pain. Better she dies now, before you learn to love her too much."

"It's too late for me, Hitomi-san." The boy's voice was soft but clear. "I love her too much already. You see, she's all I have left of my mother."

In the silence, Joss felt her body shake with a sob, although she was uncertain if it came from herself or Shun'u.

Houjun placed his hand on Kishuku's shoulder. "Hitomi-san, you who have been given the gift of future sight…"

"_Gift?"_ the old woman choked. "Better to call it a curse! To be given the ability to see what is to come, yet remain helpless to do anything to change it? It is the cruelest curse ever conceived by the gods!"

"Perhaps so," Houjun continued, his tones soft with sympathy. "But sight cursed by the gods can be wrong, isn't that possible?"

Hitomi-san turned her blue-white eye to Houjun, frowning as she read some silent message he was sending her. "Perhaps so," she repeated.

"And all of us are doomed to die some day. Do those who are gifted with a longer life contribute more to the world's happiness than those whose lives burn brilliant but brief? Would it be better if those we had loved and lost had never existed? Or does the life of someone precious to you, no matter how brief, mean more to you than the greatest treasures of the world put together?"

Hitomi-san finally broke away from Houjun's hypnotic gaze, unclasping the child's robe and folding it carefully before replacing it on the little bed. She turned and faced Kishuku and his sister. "Take the goat. Take it with you and keep it, for when the baby cries out for milk in the night."

Kishuku bowed as deeply as he could without disturbing the baby. "Thank you, Hitomi-san. But I won't take it as charity; I will come back and work for it as I promised!"

"As I said before, young Sou, I can take care of my own." The old woman's voice softened as she looked at the boy and his tiny sister. "But perhaps you can bring the baby to visit as she grows older. Let a little girl's laughter gladden an old woman's heart once again."

****

Joss finished sewing the cut-off finger from one of her fine leather gloves to the snipped-off corner of the leather pouch-canteen. She hadn't even hesitated one moment at sacrificing the expensive parting gift from Saihitei. Every move was closely watched by Kishuku, who was further shadowed by Shun'u, obviously jealous of the attention Joss was devoting to the "new boy."

"Now just take the needle and poke two tiny holes in the fingertip. You don't want the milk to flow too quickly or easily; she may choke, plus she needs to develop her sucking power for her health. Put only two measures of milk in the pouch for right now." Joss held up an Imperial sake cup. "As she gets bigger, you'll have to increase the quantity of milk and probably poke more holes in the glove tip."

Joss walked over and dropped the glove-bottle into a pot of boiling water prepared by Houjun. Another small pan of goat's milk was cooling next to the fire after having undergone its own boiling treatment. Their makeshift camp had been set up next to the spring up in the hills behind Hitomi-san's house, since they had wanted to get nourishment into the baby as soon as possible without wasting time on a crosstown jaunt. "Now listen closely, Kishuku, 'cause this is really important! Make sure that you wash and _boil_ the bottle after every feeding; that's why I sewed two of them for you. You should probably make another for back-up. Anyway, when in doubt, boil everything!"

"But why? We never did that for my other brothers and sister."

Joss pondered briefly. Suzaku probably would not appreciate her teaching germ theory to his people, but…oh, hell, she'd just have to do the best she could. "Look, Kishuku, in the past your mother fed your siblings, right?"

"Ye-es..."

"Well, mothers' milk gives a lot of protection from disease, protection that Yuiren won't have. So _you_ have to be the protection for her by getting rid of the, er, evil disease spirits by boiling. And make sure that you keep everything that you boiled clean and covered up from insects. That, and keep _her_ clean! Change her bottom cloth several times a day, and once again, wash them with the soap!" A bar of fine Imperial milled soap was added to the pile of supplies being handed to Kishuku.

Kishuku flushed at their generosity. "I'll find a way to pay you back somehow, I promise!"

"Nah, don' worry about it." Shun'u's high tones piped up proudly. "We're th' mysterious travellin' Servants of Suzaku! He's th' boss," pointing a finger at Houjun, "an' _I'm_ the second-in-command! It's our _jobs_ ta help the people of Konan!"

Joss rolled her eyes at how Shun'u conveniently forgot to mention her contribution but decided to forego an argument in favor of getting milk into the baby. "Okay, Kishuku, one last lesson: check the temperature of the milk like so," she dropped a few drops on his wrist from a spoon, "because it's a lot more sensitive to heat than your fingers. If the milk feels just nicely warm, it should be okay for Yuiren. So, pour the warm milk in the bottle, and touch the glove tip to her lips."

It took a few minutes of patient coaxing, but Yuiren soon got the idea and was sucking enthusiastically on the glove tip. Kishuku cradled her in his arms, his movements sure and experienced, but his eyes were wide with wonder. Shun'u appeared transfixed by the scene as well, while Houjun had his own eyes fixed upon Joss. She was a miracle, she really was! At that moment, Joss looked up, her features flushed with success--and she flushed even deeper at his openly admiring gaze. She grew suddenly shy and lifted the sleepy baby from Kishuku's arms. "Here, I'll hold her for awhile;why don't you relax for a bit, Kishuku?"

She knew something about boys from having a little brother, so she wasn't too surprised when he got up, stretched--then took off running into the woods, yelling in triumph and punching his fists at the sky. Shun'u sat startled for a moment, then took off after him, his battle cry considerably higher in pitch. Houjun settled down near Joss, once again enjoying the sight of her cradling a child in her arms.

They laughed as the figures of the boys flashed in and out of their view, playing an exuberant game of tag. They disappeared up the higher ridge of the hill, but their joyful shouts filtered down to the adults below.

Houjun smiled softly at Joss. "You're really extraordinary, do you know that?"

She smiled back at him, peekly coyly through her lashes, making him laugh at her pretend bashfulness. "You're pretty unusual yourself, you know. You were the one who convinced Hitomi-san to help us."

"But you're the one who has done everything else since then. All the things that you know--" He met her eyes directly, his own suddenly burning with emotion. "You amaze me," he breathed.

Joss' eyes brimmed with equal passion. "You have no idea of how amazing I can be."

"Then show me!" He caught her lips, gently this time, leaning in carefully so as not to disturb the baby. The kiss was sweet and exhilirating, tender and full of promise…

They finally broke apart, Joss drawing in deep breaths. "Oh God, if only Shun'u had stayed asleep the other night for just one more hour!"

"No." Houjun's mystical eyes danced with mischief. "It would have taken considerably longer than one hour."

Joss blushed but laughed out loud. "I'm going to hold you to that boast, Houjun! I consider it both a challenge and a promise."

"So then you'll see how amazing _I_ can be…"

Just as they leaned in for another breathless kiss, they were interrupted by an infuriated shriek from Shun'u.

"His timing is unbelievable," Houjun sighed.

"I'm not gonna say anything, since I don't believe in using curse words around an infant," growled Joss.

Shun'u's shrieks approached closer, and soon they could see what was upsetting him. He was slung over Kishuku's shoulder as he was carried down the hill by the dark-haired boy. "Put me down, goddammit; I _toldja_ I was okay!"

Joss gaped at Kishuku's power as he blithely ignored the redhead's protests, casually restraining the smaller boy with one arm. Although Kishuku was a head taller and much sturdier than Shun'u, it was still an impressive feat. It wasn't until he reached Joss and Houjun that he deposited the furious Shun'u on the ground.

"Er, what seems to be the problem here?" Joss inquired, struggling to keep a straight face as Shun'u took a swing at Kishuku and somehow missed.

Kishuku put out one hand and held Shun'u back by his forehead, letting him swing and shriek and snarl to his heart's content--and to no avail. "We had an accident. We were running on the hill, and I came around one side of a tree and she came around the other, and I knocked her to the ground, though I didn't mean to. She got mad because I wouldn't let her limp down the hill, but a gentleman never lets a lady suffer!" he finished with a chivalrous flourish.

"She?" Houjun looked confused, but Joss saw it coming.

"Uh-oh…"

"Fer th' LAST time, I ain't no fuckin' _GIRL!"_ Shun'u darted around Kishuku throwing punches, but the taller boy blocked each rapid swing with little effort. Joss' eyes widened in amazement: he rivaled the most skilled martial artists at her school. Shun'u continued to scream in fury. "Why dontcha fight me, huh? Cantcha fight like a man?"

Kishuku frowned at Shun'u. "I don't fight girls."

Since Joss was obviously enjoying this situation, Houjun knew he had to be the one to step in. "Shun'u is telling the truth, Kishuku. He is definitely a boy."

"No, I'm NOT!" shrieked Shun'u. "I'm a MAN!"

"Uh-huh." Kishuku was frankly skeptical. "Then what's with the girly clothes…and the hair?"

In all the excitement, Shun'u had lost his hair-tie, and the cascade of red-gold locks rippled over his back like a fine silken cape. Kishuku was right: it was an ornament that would provoke the envy of the vainest girl in the Imperial Court.

"I'll _prove_ it ta ya!" screamed Shun'u, fumbling for the waistband of his drawstring trousers.

"All right, that's _enough!"_ barked Joss. "You keep those trousers _on _for once! And you!" She shook a finger at Kishuku, "stop provoking him! Do you want his screaming to wake the baby?"

Kishuku suddenly sobered and hurried over to check on his little sister. He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked over at the still fuming Shun'u and shrugged. "All right, whatever you say. It's not worth fighting about, anyway."

Shun'u grew quiet. "Ya still don't believe me, do ya? Well, there's one other way ta prove it ta ya!" He darted at Houjun, as swift as the wind, and snatched the dagger out of his belt. Houjun froze in shock while Joss gasped aloud. With one lightning fast motion, Shun'u raised the blade - then twisted his hair around one hand and sliced through it near his collar. The silken curtain fell away from him, landing in the dirt. The brilliant strands intermingled with the dust and blew about in the gentle summer breeze.

Everyone went silent with shock, even Shun'u now that his fit of rage had passed. Kishuku looked over at Shun'u, then dropped his eyes, ashamed at the effect of his taunts. "Er, sorry," he apologized briefly, and raised his eyes to the slanting sun. "Ummm, I have to take Yuiren home now. Father will be wondering what became of us, and I have to fix dinner for the others. Errrrr, thank you again," bowing deeply to them all, "…thank you."

Joss, still speechless, nestled Yuiren in her brother's sling and helped load the goat with the baby supplies. She walked a short way with Kishuku, keeping a comforting hand on his shoulder. She was certain that he didn't know quite what to make of these strangers who had entered his life so explosively.

Kishuku paused a moment and looked back at Shun'u. Houjun was tousling the short spiky strands, obviously murmuring words of comfort. Shun'u shrugged in an irritated way, and they could hear the high-pitched tones. "'S'okay--I wanted ta do that fer a long time anyway!"

Joss squeezed Kishuku's shoulder as she handed him the goat's tether. "Don't worry, Shun'u will be fine. Just take care of yourself and your sister, okay?"

Kishuku nodded, caressing the baby's head. "Yeah, I will. But I hope," he suddenly burst out honestly, "I hope she doesn't grow up to be like that!" He pointed a finger at Shun'u. "That has to be the _nastiest_ little girl I ever met!"

****

****

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Babaa - old woman, old hag. _Extremely_ rude term of address for an elderly woman.

Obaa-san - literally, Grandmother. Repectful term of address for an elderly woman.

*

**Author's note: (10-9-03)** Dontcha just love those Tasuki-Tamahome brawls? Obviously I can't get enough of them, plus it was fun to come up with a scenario explaining why Tasuki is one of the two "ponytail-less" seishi in the main series. Only Mitsukake wears his hair shorter.

Okay, now for the, er, rambling length. Here are some real life excuses:

Roku's Plan A. Roku plans to write a brief, comprehensive chapter leading back into the Magus arc, covering both of the last two seishi encounters. She hopes to get some writing in after hours at work.

Reality Check 1. The roof caves in, the job demands escalate, and Roku has to use the after-hours to clean and pack the lab. Therefore, she can only write a few paragraphs at home in the dead of night.

Reality Check 2. Roku gets the nasty virus that everyone is getting and no longer has higher brain functions due to tissues stuck up her sinuses. She watches in alarm as Bridge 13 grows longer and _longer…_

Roku's Plan B. Roku gives up Plan A and decides to cut off Bridge 13 before the Chiriko arc. This leaves just a few scenes to be finished in the Kishuku arc, but…

Reality Check 3. The scenes just keep getting more and _more_ detailed, and Roku, whose self-editing skills are dicey at best, finds herself unable to do much more than correct grammar and spelling, and THEN

Reality Check 4. The job demands increase even MORE, now including computer training courses, so

Plan C. Roku says "The hell with editing!" and throws all of big, messy Bridge 13 up on site LATE Wednesday night to be sorted out by her faithful readers on Thursday, thus essentially "passing the buck." She apologizes profusely and hopes that said faithful readers will forgive the excessive, rambling length of this chapter, while promising more action and brevity in Bridge 14, which however…

Appendix: now stands at 5000 words and is still unfinished! Gyyaaahhhh!

Sooooooooo…I hadn't _intended_ to write a "War and Peace" length novel here, but somehow all these characters KEEP TALKING TO ME! However, I am seriously promising you that Bridge 14 will lead us back (at last!) to the Magus arc. Will you be happy? I don't know. The Magus arc is dark--very, VERY dark! Just in time for Halloween, too.

Oh, by the way, I'll be off visiting Mickey and Minnie next week, so Bridge 14 will probably not be completed until October Twenty-Something!

See you then!

Ja ne!

Rambling Roku


	14. The encroaching darkness

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story, as well as the plotline, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

****

** Chapter 14. The encroaching darkness**

The Doctor dismounted and trudged wearily towards the modest inn located near the outskirts of the bustling lumber town of Jouzen-shi. Pausing briefly to look up at the thickly forested hills that formed the western horizon of Konan, he calculated that if he traveled much further west, he would soon find himself crossing over into Sairou, thus overshooting his mark. However, he was still unsure if he were at the correct location; he would have to wait until the stars appeared tonight to make that final judgment.

Stepping into the dim coolness of the inn's public room, he became aware of the buzz of conversation tapering off upon his entrance. His eyes adjusted quickly to the shadowed interior, a welcome relief from the noonday sun…and he quickly realized his mistake. It was as if he had just walked blithely into a darts tournament at a neighborhood pub, the patrons staring at him with a combination of surprise and resentment. He had inadvertently chosen a place that the locals obviously considered their own.

Normally, he would have either backpedaled graciously out of the place or exerted his winning charm to make himself agreeable to the patrons, but right now, he was too travel-weary to care. He knew his velvet coat marked him as a foreigner anywhere in this city, but his nomadic robes had become so infused with dust during his long journey that they were too disgraceful to wear. Turning to the rough counter that served as a bar, he hoped that the natives would grow weary of staring at him and return to their own business.

The barkeep gave him a bland, unhelpful look. The Doctor repressed a small thrill of irritation and assumed an equally bland expression. "Excuse me, but I was hoping to procure a beverage. Would you happen to have any tea available? Cold would be fine."

Another flat stare in the thick silence. There was a snort of contempt from one of the patrons in the back, a woodcutter from the looks of him, with his rough, simple clothes and an impressive array of upper body musculature. The barkeep finally deigned to answer the Doctor's request. "Beer," he growled, slopping the contents of a frothy jar into a grimy glass and shoving it in front of him.

The Doctor lifted the glass and sniffed unobtrusively at the contents. The sour smell of the local fermented brew nearly turned his stomach. He replaced the glass on the counter and attempted a pleasant smile. "I'm sorry, but my religion doesn't permit the consumption of fermented drinks," he lied smoothly. Well, in all truth, he _had_ studied the tenets of Zen Buddhism and Islam, both faiths discouraging the contamination of the body and spirit by alcoholic beverages. "Perhaps a glass of water would suffice?"

Another burst of derisive laughter from the customers in the back. At that moment, a young man of Houjun's age walked into the bar, waving a friendly greeting to the patrons and leaning up against the counter. His clothes were simple in cut, but the material was expensive and finely sewn, showing him to be a class above the laborers in the bar. "Noru-san," he greeted the barkeep pleasantly. "A very good day to you. May I have the usual, please?"

"Of course, Ou-san." The barkeep's manner changed instantly to one of friendly respect. He presented the young man with a tiny sparkling glass of plum wine, the light floral scent tickling the Doctor's nose.

The Doctor repressed a sigh, realizing that his lie now prevented him from asking for the same thing. He could tell that it was going to be one of those days. "Er, Noru-san?" he queried, hoping that the use of the barkeep's proper name would thaw the man's attitude towards him. "About that water…"

The atmosphere changed instantly. The barkeep glared at the foreigner. "Water's not so easy to get around here. A glass'll cost you four ryu."

The young man's eyes widened at the ridiculous price, but the Doctor merely gritted his teeth and dug in his coat pockets for the correct currency. "Just my luck to run into the local representative of the Evian company," he muttered under his breath but decided to avoid the obvious bait. He knew that he could make short work of the barkeep and the rest of the patrons for that matter, but his goal was to avoid drawing undue attention to himself. Dropping a handful of coins onto the bar, he hoped that at least some of them were acceptable tender in this place and time.

Noru-san appeared unimpressed. "No, we don't take any of this here. You'll have to take your business elsewhere."

Just as the Doctor was wistfully envisioning the barkeep pinned in the eight-limbed grip of his Venusian Aikido sensei, the young man stepped in. "Noru-san, you're being unforgivably rude!" he scolded. "Not to mention almost criminally deceptive! I see at least ten ryu here, but I'm certainly not going to allow this man to pay you for water. Here," he shoved two coins across the bar. "Here's your four ryu, but in exchange, I insist upon an entire flask of plum wine!"

"He don't drink no wine, he says," the barkeep replied, as sullen as a child scolded by his elders.

Ou-san looked over at the beer standing untouched before the Doctor. "And I would say the same if you put any of that foul swill before me," he observed shrewdly. "I would think your hogs out back turn up their noses at your cheapest home-brew!" He softened his tones, suddenly smiling with a charm that rivaled the Doctor at his best. "Come now, Noru-san, let's not argue. Just give me the wine, and we'll take a table out on the street. You may not realize it, but I've been waiting a long time to meet this man."

The Doctor swallowed, hoping that his expression was somewhat less surprised than the barkeep's. The murmurs in the back rose in volume as the young man turned to the Doctor. "I can tell that you're a stranger in these parts. Would you happen to be the man known as, hmmm, let me think, "sensei" isn't quite right. Oh, yes, 'Professor'!" he cried triumphantly, stumbling only a little over the foreign title.

Now the Doctor knew that his expression was openly shocked. He closed his mouth with an effort. "Yes, I have been called that in the past," he murmured hesitantly. How could this young man know Ace's nickname for him, unless--surely Ace could not be mixed up in this somehow!

Caught up in these jumbled thoughts, he followed the young man into a shaded courtyard set back a little from the dusty street. The muted thunk of woodcutters plying their trade reached the Doctor's ears, along with the sweet, pungent smell of freshly cut pines. The young man placed the wine on a convenient table and poured two small glasses, pausing to give the Doctor a polite half-bow. "Professor-sensei, it's a honor to meet you at last."

The Doctor bowed back. "I don't wish to be rude, Ou-san, but I have no idea as to how you know my name. Will you enlighten me?"

"Oh, yes! And please call me Kazuki, Professor-sensei, since I am about to be very much in your debt. I had heard of you from the monks of Suzaku. They have a small monastery in the next town--not the famous one back east but a respectable and holy place nonetheless. I had traveled there to procure a tutor for my younger brother, and they informed me that I could expect a foreigner known as the Professor to make an appearance in my town shortly."

The Doctor took a sip of plum wine, savoring the fragrance while mulling over Suzaku's stratagems. This assignment of a tutoring role implied that the Doctor would be making a longer stay than expected, but at least he'd finally reached his destination. He smiled at Kazuki, taking in the fine, attractive features enhanced by large, moss-green eyes, his light chestnut hair pulled up into a high ponytail. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Kazuki-san, and I'd be pleased to help you in any way I can." He glanced back at the door to the inn. "It's the least I can do after your kind intervention earlier. They don't care much for strangers in this town, do they?"

Ou Kazuki's eyes darkened as he sipped his wine. "It's unfortunate, Professor-sensei, but they've learned to be wary of newcomers. There are many power struggles over the logging rights in Jouzen-shi, and I'm sorry to say that certain rival loggers will stop at nothing in their quest to take over another man's business. It's a literal war that has forced the workers into tightly knotted and defensive groups. A new face in town can mean the appearance of a saboteur--or an assassin. I myself have had bitter experience of…" His voice trailed off as his face filled with pain.

The Doctor waited in sympathetic silence as Kazuki regained control. "We needn't speak of such things now," he murmured soothingly. "I believe that you said you had a younger brother?"

Kazuki smiled gratefully, his face brightening as his thoughts were diverted. "Yes! He's really the most extraordinary person--but you will see for yourself, Professor-sensei! If you don't mind, I will escort you to my home as soon as we're finished here."

It was only a short time later that the two men approached some dwellings far outside the borders of the town. The houses were set back into the foothills so that they looked down upon the busy streets from a quiet distance. The finest of these houses sat furthest up the gentle slope, most of its features hidden by the intervening trees. As their horses rounded a curve in the hilly path, the men caught the sound of children laughing. An open, grassy area came into view, occupied by several children ranging in age from four to twelve, by their appearances. They were playing a game that involved chasing a lopsided leather ball with sticks, often crossing sticks in imitation swordplay.

At the far end of the field, one lone child stood watching, hands tucked modestly into the sleeves of a long robe. The child's eyes followed the motion of the ball eagerly, while at times he clapped his hands at the moves, his chestnut hair bound in a topknot bobbing in excitement. He was very small, about the size of a six-year-old, yet he seemed to understand the rules of the game perfectly. At last the ball shot towards him from a wild hit. He caught it easily, running out to join in the game--only to have the ball snatched roughly from him.

The largest boy pushed him back. "Get out, Doukun, you're not part of this game! Go home!"

The small boy choked back a sob. "But you said that maybe I could play today!"

"So I changed my mind. Why don't you go back to your scrolls, you crybaby?"

Doukun retreated, wiping furiously at his eyes as the bigger children laughed in derision. The Doctor tensed, digging his heels into his mount, only to find his reins caught by Kazuki.

"It's no use, Professor-sensei," Kazuki's voice was low and sad. "If you intervene, they'll only hate him all the more. I know this from my own attempts. They sense that he's different, you see, so they exclude him out of fear and ignorance - and unfortunately, wisdom and tolerance cannot be forced on anyone."

The Doctor's eyes darkened, glinting green as they grew distant. He seemed lost in some grim memory from ages past. "I know," he muttered. "Believe me, I understand." He looked up into Kazuki's pained expression. "So this is your younger brother? Isn't he a bit young to require a tutor?"

"He's older than he appears, Doctor. He's nine years old, although small for his age."

"I sense a trend here," muttered the Doctor. He raised his voice to an audible level and assumed a cheerful smile. "Shall we see if we can improve Doukun's day?"

****

The Doctor looked up from the pile of unrolled scrolls to meet the wide eyes of the boy who knelt before him. He smiled at the eager yet fearful hope in that moss-green gaze. "Ah yes: an excellent example of spherical trigonometry. These figures are astoundingly accurate in plotting the longitude and latitude of the nearest star systems…er, constellations. I must confess, I had never expected to encounter such advanced science in this world, er, country."

Doukun broke into a huge smile. "Do you mean that you understand the equations?" He flushed as he realized how his remark could be interpreted. "I'm sorry, Professor-Sensei! I didn't mean to question your learning or to imply that I, uh…"

"Don't worry, Doukun, I know that you meant no disrespect. As a matter of fact, you're probably correct in assuming that there are very few people in this world who are able to understand this level of mathematical reasoning. However, since we've been fortunate enough to find one another, let's see if we can share our learning. Also, it would be a favor to me if you would address me as 'Doctor' rather than 'Professor.' I've become a little more accustomed to this title in the past few years."

"Of course, Pro….Doctor! Would you like to see more of my equations?"

"Perhaps in a little while. First, I'd like to show you something."

Doukun immediately bent forward to touch his forehead to the ground in a deep bow of acquiescent respect. The Doctor sighed and walked around to pull the boy to his feet. "I think the first order of business may be to establish some rules. In the academic world, Doukun, fellow scholars always treat one another as equals without regard to social rank. Only in this way can ideas be exchanged freely; otherwise, great insights would be lost in the morass of social niceties and respectful silences. Therefore, as long as I am your tutor, I shall address you as 'Doukun' and you shall address me as 'Doctor' and we will both dispense with excessive bowing. After all, how can you see what I'm demonstrating if you have your head pressed into the ground?"

Doukun looked up at the laughter in his tutor's voice. His heart lifted, and he was filled with hope for the first time in over a year. Maybe…maybe this stranger was someone who would understand him at last, in the way that his father had understood him! He quelled both his burgeoning excitement and his bittersweet memories in the face of a sobering thought. If the Doctor were to truly understand him, then he would have to be made aware of Doukun's secret…his shameful secret. As he was wrestling with this difficult dilemma, a flash of movement caught his eye.

The Doctor held a disc-like object that was spinning on the end of a string. He swung it and caught the string between the fingers of two hands, forming a sort of frame within which the disc swung back and forth like a pendulum.

Doukun clapped his hands in delight. "A perfect device to show the arc velocity of centrifugal force and the decay of momentum! What do you call this invention, Doctor?"

The Doctor shot him a rueful smile. "I call it a toy, a yo-yo to be exact. Haven't you ever played with one before?"

Doukun frowned at the object. It did seem slightly familiar. "Oh, yes, I think I saw some of the other children holding one once. But I've never seen anything like the motions you are putting it through."

"Here, why don't you try it?" The Doctor caught the yo-yo and handed it to Doukun.

The small boy held the painted wood object hesitantly, studying the string as it wrapped around the groove in the center of the double disc. He tentatively released the disc, then yanked on the string. His face fell in disappointment as the disc thudded onto the floor. "I'm sorry, but I can't seem to calculate the amount of force needed to reverse the motion of the yo-yo so that its momentum counteracts gravity."

The Doctor laughed. "No one succeeds with a yo-yo on the first try, Doukun. Just relax and play with it awhile."

Doukun frowned in concentration, certain that he was failing some test that the Doctor was using to assess his abilities. He felt anxiety beginning to build, then choked in dismay as the bitterly familiar feeling of disconnection took hold in him. Oh gods, not _now!_ Why did this have to happen just when he was trying to make a good impression on his new tutor?! The harder he tried to hold on, the quicker his control slipped away, until he was left holding the yo-yo limply in his grasp as he gazed up at the stranger with eyes filled with tears. "I…I don't know what to do!" he burst out.

The Doctor crouched and held out a comforting hand to Doukun. "Don't be sad. You don't have to do anything. Just play--but only if you want to."

Doukun looked into the kind blue eyes of the man kneeling before him. He fought back the feeling of failure that usually gripped him at these times, the feeling that he had forgotten something important, thus disappointing the adult who confronted him. But this time, the stranger (_Doctor,_ whispered his subconscious mind)--that's right, the _Doctor_ did not seem upset with him. His smile remained gentle and encouraging.

"That's a very interesting toy you're holding. Why don't you give it a try?"

Doukun swallowed, blinking back tears. He didn't want the Doctor to think of him as a crybaby, so he stared down at the yo-yo. He wound the string carefully around the center, then flicked the disc towards the ground, pulling back on the string just before the disc reached the end. The yo-yo jumped back up the string for a few inches before falling to the ground once more.

"Excellent! A fine beginning!" cheered the Doctor. "Try again!"

The next thirty minutes found Doukun becoming increasingly adept at returning the yo-yo to his hand from various positions, while the Doctor offered helpful tips and acted as his personal cheering section. The small boy turned pink with pleasure and triumph--until the world shifted a few degrees, and he found his thoughts once again bright and razor sharp. He tried to calculate the angle and velocity at which he snapped his wrist but overcompensated and dropped the yo-yo. Staring down at the toy rolling around the floor, he felt unsure of how to meet the Doctor's eyes now that he realized how fully he had revealed his weakness.

The Doctor stooped and picked up the yo-yo, rewinding the string and replacing it in his coat pocket. "We can continue this lesson later. Right now, I believe that you've learned how important it can be _not_ to over-think a problem. Sometimes you just have to let go and let your feelings guide you."

"Doctor," Doukun stopped, unsure of how to proceed. He choked, saddened by the thought of losing this one promising teacher only a short while after meeting him. "I'm sorry." His voice was very soft. "I guess…I guess you're leaving now."

The Doctor shook his head. "Why would I leave? We've only just begun, Doukun."

"But now you know! I'm stupid--stupid at least half the time, if not more!"

"Don't use that word. You're not at all stupid. You're just a normal nine-year-old boy--with some special abilities, I'll admit."

"Special abilities," Doukun repeated numbly. He took a deep breath. "They're not what you think, Doctor. It's not as if I can concentrate and make myself intelligent; you don't understand!"

The velvet voice was gently sympathetic. "I understand that it's never easy to be a celestial warrior…Suzaku no Seishi Chiriko."

Doukun's mouth fell open in shock. He followed the Doctor's gaze down to the top of his left foot, where the kanji for "cho" gave off a crimson glow. "How did you know?" he whispered. "No one outside of my family knows about me."

"I know a little about a great many things, just as you know a great deal about a few things. Together we should be able to learn from one another. So, since I've just given you my first lesson, it's time that you taught me something. Are you ready, Doukun?"

Doukun couldn't help it--he burst into a radiant smile. It was like a waking dream, to finally find someone who understood him completely; someone to be a mentor and a friend. He eagerly proffered one of the unrolled scrolls. "Here, Doctor, let me show you how to find your way around Konan by charting the stars!"

The heads of the two new friends bent eagerly over the scribbles and calculations, exchanging ideas and information and laughter.

****

The night sky glistened with a sparkling array of millions of twinkling lights, set in the celestial arc like diamonds on black velvet. The Doctor leaned his arms on the balcony rail and inhaled deeply, content for once to appreciate the beauty of the galaxial display instead of rushing off to plunge into another adventure. Not that he could have done so even if he had desired; this adventure had not yet concluded, and he was stranded without his TARDIS.

Sensing the approach of another person, he turned around. "_Konbanha,_ Kazuki-san. It's a lovely night, isn't it?"

Kazuki flashed one of his charming smiles. "Yes it is, Doctor, although very few people stay awake this late to appreciate it. I myself was heading to my bedchamber, but I saw you out here and decided to take the opportunity to talk with you. We've barely had a moment to converse since you arrived; Doukun monopolizes all of your attention." Although the words were mildly rebuking, they were belied by the laughter in Kazuki's voice.

The Doctor answered with a laugh of his own. "Yes, your brother's energy and enthusiasm are boundless! He has such an appetite for knowledge." He smiled more gently. "But he's no cloistered, distant scholar; his love for family comes first in his life. No lessons can begin until he's had a leisurely breakfast with your mother, discussing the minutiae of her day. I can see that _his_ happiness means as much to her...and to you."

Kazuki's gaze turned wistful. "Yes, it does--and I can't tell you how grateful I am for your kindness to him. In these past four days, Doukun has nearly returned to the boy he had been before my father's death. For me, it's like a miracle, a wish come true."

The Doctor's voice was soft and sympathetic. "Apparently, he was very badly hurt by your father's death."

"Murder, Doctor--my father was murdered." Kazuki's voice had hardened, growing cold. "It's only been a little over a year since my family was shattered and for no better reason than greed. You see, there is a family here in Jouzen-shi who lusted after my father's lumber business. Their name is Numajiri, and although they possess untold wealth, they're always wanting more. Otou-san refused their multiple offers to buy his land holdings. You see, he disliked the way they treated their employees, and he had no intention of subjecting his woodcutters to the same fate."

The Doctor settled his arms on the balcony rail, listening attentively. He could sense Kazuki's need to tell this story, trying to make sense of it by presenting it to a near stranger. Kazuki settled near him, looking out over the courtyard--looking into the past.

"The Numajiris became frustrated, so they decided to get the land any way they could. They framed my father for crimes of fraud and tax evasion. You can only imagine how the Dowager Empress felt about businessmen in Konan who fail to pay into her treasury. We knew nothing of this, of course, until the morning that a contingent of Imperial soldiers marched up to our house and took Otou-san away. We never even got the chance to say good-bye."

"But the Numajiri family forgot about our secret weapon: my brother Doukun, who is also Suzaku no Seishi Chiriko. His powers of intelligence enabled him to ferret out the conspiracy within a week, and to gather evidence that would clear my father's name. We raced to the capital with the evidence, hoping to get the Emperor to hear our plea. But the Dowager Empress had her attendants tell us to wait, and the Emperor would see us soon. After an hour, she sent her advisors out to tell us that the Emperor was finished with audiences for that day, the Dowager Empress citing her fear for his health under such an exhausting schedule. We noted, however, that certain high nobles were entering and exiting the throne room on a regular basis. I became angry, but Doukun suddenly went into a panic, pulling at my sleeve and insisting that we get to the prison to make sure that Otou-san was all right. The advisors tried to stop us with renewed promises of seeing the Emperor, but we ran out of the antechamber, to the lower levels of the palace where the dungeon lay. It didn't matter...we were too late."

Kazuki's voice grew distant, his eyes hard. "Just as the guard granted us entrance to the cells, they were removing his body. They told us they were so sorry, but Otou-san had taken his own life. They pointed at the rope marks around his neck, telling us that he had hanged himself."

"Mother immediately went into shock, collapsing in my arms. Doukun, however--something changed in him. I don't know if it was Chiriko appearing when we needed him, or just the death of innocence in his soul. He told me to carry Kaa-san out of there, while he examined…the body. I must've been in shock as well, for I did as he ordered, never questioning the wisdom of leaving an eight-year-old boy alone with his father's corpse."

"Just as I regained my senses enough to become worried about him, Doukun, or I should say Chiriko, reappeared. It hadn't taken him long to do what he had to do. He was polite to the guards, asking them how much money we had to pay to take our father's body home for a decent burial. He made the arrangements, then paid them out of his little purse. I was overcome by the terrible wrongness of everything, and I began to querulously demand answers, but Chiriko grasped my arm and forced me and Kaa-san out of that place. He was very firm with me, saying that he had lost enough of his family that day."

"Once we were outside, I broke down…but Chiriko never wept. He just kept staring up at the palace with that strange, cold look on his face. 'I can't believe that Otou-san would kill himself!' I cried. 'He didn't,' Chiriko replied. 'There was no blood in the rope wounds on his neck. He was dead before they hanged him.'"

"'Murder?' I couldn't believe it. 'Yes,' he replied in that old, cold voice. 'Unless, of course, Otou-san is the first man in history to commit suicide by whipping himself to death.' At that I lost control, swearing vengeance against his killers, declaring my intention to destroy all those responsible. Once again, Chiriko hushed me up, reminding me that my first duty was to bring my mother home safely, my second was to bury my father with due ceremony and respect, and my third duty was to raise him as my father would. It was so odd, stumbling around in that haze of shock and grief, listening to a calm, adult voice tell me that I had to be his father now. But I did as he said and brought them all back here safely."

"I eventually won back most of the business that the Numajiri family stole from Otou-san. I did it through a few local court rulings based on the evidence that we had gathered, and through many clever business stratagems guided, of course, by Chiriko. I still wanted to hurt the Numajiri family in more physical ways, but Chiriko looked up at me with those huge, knowing eyes in that childlike face and said, 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' I shuddered and didn't know if I hated the Numajiris more for murdering my father…or for destroying my brother's innocence."

"It took me a while to understand what Chiriko meant to do in terms of vengeance…but I began to notice that he kept away from his astronomical studies in favor of studying long, complicated scrolls on government policies. When I questioned him, he told me that there were many ways to challenge corruption in government. We could storm the gates of the Imperial Palace and impale ourselves on the guards' spears, all the while screaming out the truth of the Emperor's perfidy, but our cause would die with us, quickly forgotten--or we could infiltrate the Palace and fight corruption from within. 'In this way, we will become as hard to eradicate as rats in a cellar wall,' Chiriko explained to me. 'But first, I must become a High Government Official, and to do that, I must pass the three government exams.'"

"So he studies day and night. I must confess that I've been worried about him, Doctor. He loses his seishi powers from time-to-time and becomes Doukun again--but when the powers return, he seems to feel such frustration at the lost time. He seemed driven, angry, almost as if he wants to punish himself…and I don't know how to help him. Your presence here has been a blessing in every way; for the first time in over a year, my brother seems happy again."

"I owe it to you as well, Onii-san." Doukun's high-pitched tones were suffused with affection as he moved out of the shadows. Kazuki flushed guiltily at being discovered, but Doukun just took his brother's hand and leaned his cheek against it. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was looking for the Doctor. I wanted to invite him onto the roof to see my astronomical instruments, but I'm glad I found you as well, Nii-san. I wanted to tell you that I know how much you've worried about me and worked to help me--and that you and Kaa-san are the two people who keep me from despair."

Kazuki scooped his little brother into his arms, leaning his face against the boy's rounded cheek. The Doctor smiled at the brothers. He wasn't certain that he was really needed here; Doukun had a warm and loving family who supported him at all times. But perhaps there was more to this story, more than Doukun wanted to confide to his brother.

The Doctor turned and smiled at the boy. "I believe that you had promised me celestial wonders?"

****

The boy moved confidently among the huge astronomical instruments. He stopped to peer up at the diamond-studded sky through a convoluted arrangement of bronze concentric circles suspended on a frame composed of intricately carved bronze dragons. At the center of the circles was a solid bronze sphere representing the earth. He rotated one of the outer rings which was marked off into the four quadrants of the heavens representing each of the four gods, then read the measurements and recorded them on a scroll with a fine brush. "This is my armillary sphere," he explained to the Doctor. "I use it to track the movements of the stars." The Doctor nodded, impressed with the engineering and artistry of the instrument, each circle evenly divided into 365 1/4 degrees for the days of the year.

It was only the two of them in the makeshift observatory on the roof, since Kazuki had pleaded weariness and retired to his chambers.

Doukun next lifted a triangular wedge to his eye. The Doctor recognized it as a quadrant, an instrument that measured the zenith distance of a star. After marking down more measurements and checking the exact time of night on an astrolabe, Doukun unrolled several huge scrolls across a large marble table. "These are my star charts. My father and I collected them while on a trip to Eiyou. He had somehow obtained permission for us to visit the Imperial observatories, and the astronomers were kind enough to allow us to make some rubbings of their black marble celestial maps."

The Doctor smiled at the excitement and nostalgia in Doukun's voice. "Your father sounds like a wonderful man."

"Oh, he was!" exclaimed the child prodigy, pausing briefly in his scribbles and calculations. "He didn't understand everything that I spoke of, but he was excited by whatever I explained to him. He used to say…" Doukun blushed but continued, "he used to say that having a son like me was like having his own private window on the universe. He said that he didn't understand everything he saw, but he loved the view nonetheless."

The Doctor laughed, appreciating Ou-san's enthusiasm that had rivaled his own passion for inexplicable marvels. 

Doukun continued to reminisce, his voice growing soft with emotion. "I love to follow the stars, but that's not the only reason I spend so many nights among my maps and instruments. When I'm out here alone in the dark and the quiet, and the whole world seems to be asleep…I can almost feel my father standing behind me. Sometimes, I feel that if I just turn around very quickly, I'll catch him standing there, smiling that proud smile…" Doukun's voice faltered. "But I never do turn around. I'm too afraid to see the emptiness, so I…I just keep staring up at the stars, pretending he's here with me."

"And so he is." The Doctor's voice was very soft. "We never truly lose the ones we love; they live on here..." tapping his temple, "…and here." He oddly tapped each side of his chest instead of the middle, but Doukun understood his gesture.

"I believe you, Doctor, but sometimes…sometimes I ache so badly for the tangible: the sound of his voice, the warmth of his hand on my shoulder. You see, he was the one person who truly understood me, _all_ of me: the quick and the slow, the smart and the stupid. I know Onii-san and Kaa-san love me and support me, but I can see the confusion in their eyes when I begin talking of strange sciences or when I suddenly can't remember how to do simple sums. But Otou-san--he knew who I was at all times. He had such a vast mind and heart; he was like a giant to me, a hero of legend. So when I saw him," Doukun faltered for a moment but forced himself to go on, "when I saw them bringing his body out of that prison, I couldn't believe it. He looked so small…so small and broken. I had to touch him, examine him with my own hands to make myself believe that it was him."

The boy's voice finally broke. The Doctor reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder but remained silent, sensing Doukun's need to tell his story. After a few moments, Doukun found his voice again, but it was older, husky with remembered grief. "I did what I had to do, and this knowledge that Suzaku bestowed upon me told me how he had been murdered. I didn't need the seishi powers of Chiriko, however, to tell me that Otou-san had not committed suicide; I knew in my own heart that he would never do that. He was a fighter--and whatever else I might be, I am his son. I vowed that day, that very _hour_, not to rest until I put a stop to the powers that had destroyed him. No one should ever be allowed to take a man like my father and make him small. No one, not even the Emperor himself."

The Doctor broke in. "I want to assure you that the Emperor had no knowledge of this. I know him personally, and he is a very fair and upright young man. I suspect that the Dowager Empress may have…"

"Yes, and she is dead. But you can't assure me that corruption has been completely eradicated from his government."

The Doctor shook his head, remembering the inexplicable appearance of the Kutou contingent in the throne room to claim Joss. No, he couldn't deny it; traitors and spies still remained within the highest circles of the Imperial government.

Doukun continued. "So I study for the government exams, trying to become part of that which helped kill my father--trying to fight them from within."

"A noble cause, Doukun: vengeance without blood."

"But is it the right way? I can't do it without the power of Chiriko, but that power is not mine to command. At times I sit here studying madly, and suddenly the scrolls make no sense. What if this happens to me in the exams? Why doesn't Suzaku consider me worthy of _keeping_ this power? Will he deny me in the end? Am I unworthy to be one of his shichiseishi? I don't know. I only know that I fail more than I succeed, and," his voice became very small, "I wonder if my father is ashamed of me."

"No!" The Doctor's voice was harsh, making his young pupil jump guiltily. He immediately softened his tones. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scold, but I don't want you to think such things. I'm certain that your father is very proud of you, Doukun--and if he's half the man you said he was, he's prouder of you for trying when the power deserts you than when it gives you strength." The Doctor knelt before Doukun and tipped his chin up so that their eyes met. "That's where true courage lies: in trying your best when you're weak and uncertain as opposed to when you have celestial powers. It's in the effort that the merit lies, not necessarily in the success. You mustn't lose faith in yourself, Doukun."

Doukun closed his eyes for a moment as if he were committing the Doctor's words to his heart. They must have found their place there, for when he opened his eyes, they were shining with new hope and optimism.

"There's another reason why I chart the stars." Doukun's voice was suddenly bright and happy as he turned back to his charts, scribbling on a fresh scroll as he performed rapid calculations on an abacus. "I like to watch the lives of my celestial brothers or sisters from a distance. I feel this connection to them, and I imagine…I imagine how it will be when we all meet up at last. I keep hoping that they will understand me in the same way that Otou-san did! And it's so exciting to observe their lives, although sometimes they frighten me with how close they come to danger. I used to lose sleep worrying over the constellation Tasuki; he or she would come so close to disaster so many times that I thought it was over. But Tasuki doesn't seem to be very easy to kill; she or he always triumphs in the end. The others also seem to come through their trials, and recently something has been pushing away the dark celestial shadows that encroach upon them."

The Doctor smiled secretly to himself as the boy continued to chatter happily. "However, the one that has worried me most in recent times has been the constellation Chichiri. Until a short while ago, Chichiri was eclipsed by a very dark cloud, but now…" Doukun's voice suddenly caught in his throat. He stared at his calculations, then grabbed his abacus and ran through them once again.

"What is it?" The Doctor tried to control his sudden sense of dread.

Doukun waved him to silence, racing back to the armillary sphere. He rotated the rings a few times to generate new numbers while staring up at the stars with narrowed eyes, then grabbed the astrolabe to recheck the celestial time. He ran back to the charts and plotted the raw numbers. The beads on the abacus clicked and flew back and forth as he tried one new calculation after another. Finally he stopped to meet the Doctor's gaze, his face pale with fear.

"Something's wrong!" he choked. "Chichiri--the darkness--it's coming fast! Unless something changes--it's the end!"

The Doctor leaped up, his own features reflecting his panic. "I need your best horse, Doukun, and I need it now! I have to leave this instant!"

Doukun nodded, and the two took off racing through the house. Doukun stopped to rouse Kazuki, knowing that the master of the house would get quicker responses from the sleeping stableboys. The three ran to the stables, Kazuki grabbing up a few canteens of water and tossing them to the Doctor as he shouted for assistance. It was scant minutes later that the Doctor was able to leap onto the back of a fully saddled and outfitted horse.

"Doctor, let me get you some rations," urged Kazuki.

"No, don't worry, no time for that now." The Doctor bent to look Doukun in the eye. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you like this, Doukun."

"I understand," interrupted the boy.

"Yes, thank you. Just remember all that I have told you tonight--and keep watching the stars! If I'm able to save him, it will be because of you and your talents--never forget that!"

With that, the Doctor spurred his horse and galloped into the darkness, leaving the two brothers standing side-by-side, staring out into the night.

****

In a small tent more than half a country away, the dim light of a turned down lamp reflected off a dagger blade as it stealthily approached the sleeping magician. The dagger flicked quickly in the darkness, and the wielder retreated, slipping out of the tent flap.

Another figure rose and silently followed him, knowing that the quarry would get away if he became aware of his pursuer. The pursuit finally ended when the dagger wielder paused at the edge of the woods, pulling a bag from under his shirt and squatting to open it and rifle through its contents. The pursuer crept up on him and seized him in a strong hold, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Sharp teeth fastened in the hand of the pursuer, who stifled a shriek of pain. "Goddamn it, Shun'u, bite me one more time, and it'll be the last time you'll have _any_ teeth left in your head!"

The two broke apart, Shun'u's eyes still wild with fear from the unexpected assault. "What th' fuck are ya doin', sneakin' around an' grabbin' me?"

Joss sucked on the wound in her hand. "I think that you're the one who has some explaining to do, you little shit! What were you doing to Houjun in the tent?"

Shun'u stuck his hand behind his back. "Nothin'!"

Joss made a sudden lunge and caught Shun'u by the elbow and shook him. "Enough of this shit! 'Fess up!"

"All right, all right; jus' quit shakin' me, or you'll make me drop it!"

"Drop what?"

Shun'u held out his hand. Joss dragged him to the flickering embers of their campfire to get a better look at his prize.

It was a lock of Houjun's hair, the dark strands gleaming and reflecting the faint glow of the firelight. But even as they watched, the strands began to lighten, ending up shining with a silvery-blue light.

"What th' _fuck?"_ hissed Shun'u in surprise.

Joss pursed her lips thoughtfully. So the hair color spell must wear off when separated from Houjun. It made sense, really. But how was she supposed to explain it to Shun'u, who was staring at the hair with something close to religious awe on his face?

"Er…um…well, you know that Houjun is a magician, Shun'u. It's best not to mess with his stuff."

Shun'u snorted in contempt. "Tough. I'm keepin' this--it's _sugoi!_" He pulled a thread from his tunic--no, _her_ tunic! recalled Joss--and tied it carefully around one end of the lock, holding it together. "How d'ya s'pose he does this?" he asked, holding up the lock to admire it.

Joss held up a finger and solemnly quoted, "'Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'"

Shun'u wrinkled his nose, unimpressed. "What the fuck are ya babblin' about?"

Joss sighed. "Never mind. Just trying to be literary, except that it's before your time." She frowned, reconsidering. "Or after your time. Whatever. But listen, you still haven't explained your sudden interest in midnight barbering. Barbering without consent, I might add."

Shun'u shrugged, jutting out his chin and refusing to answer.

Joss narrowed her eyes. "So that's the way you want to play it. How about if I go wake up Houjun, and you can explain yourself to him?"

"No!" Shun'u sulked, realizing that he had betrayed himself. Setting his teeth, he seemed to come to a decision. "Look, I ain't doin' nothin' bad; it's just that it's a secret, an' everyone knows that girls can't keep secrets. Blab, blab, blab, that's all they ever do."

Joss was stung. "Girls can keep secrets better than boys! And I can tell you that the mouth that's shooting off all the time around here doesn't belong to a female!"

"Sticks and stones," Shun'u replied airily. "So yer sayin' that ya won't blab on me, on yer honor as a girl."

"Wait a minute, I never agreed to…"

"That's what I thought--girls can't keep their blabby mouths shut."

"All right! I'll keep your secret, but _only_ if you tell me the whole truth, and there's nothing illegal, immoral or infectious about it."

"Deal!" Shun'u knocked his fist against Joss' fist. He stooped beside the fire and produced the bag he had been holding earlier. Joss noted his eagerness and repressed a smile. From his body language, it looked as if Shun'u was pleased to be sharing his "secret" at last.

The boy kept withdrawing one item after another out of the bag and placing them carefully in a line. Joss was reminded of the proprietary pride of her younger brother the time that her sisters had discovered his bug collection stored in his underwear drawer. He had blithely ignored their shrieking, proud to be displaying his "treasures" at last.

_That's what this was, _Joss realized. _Shun'u's "treasure" bag._ She gazed at the various shiny rocks, interesting bits of wood, and…

"Is that a snake skin?" she shrieked.

"Shhh! Yer gonna wake Houjun! What're you afraid of, anyway?"

"I'm not afraid; just a little…startled. Why did you…what _are_ all these things, anyway?"

"It's all the stuff I found on this journey. That snake skin is from that big dead snake that Kazue trapped me with at th' lake. I went back th' mornin' after ya pulled me out, before we left, an' I pulled it off the snake."

"The _decomposing_ snake."

"Yeah." Shun'u's voice held the hushed respect of a visitor to a cathedral. "Stunk worse'n anythin' I ever smelled before. Whoo!"

"But it's better now, right?"

"Yeah, but it still smells pretty strong." Shun'u dangled the snake skin before Joss' face.

She tilted her head away from the disgusting object and sought a distraction. "So what does this have to do with Houjun's hair?"

Shun'u dropped the snake skin and grew serious, staring into the fire. "I know where we're goin' now: you guys are takin' me home. An' that's okay, 'cause we made a deal, an' I intend ta stick to it…but I wanna remember everythin.'" His voice grew soft. "I wanna remember _him."_

The boy swallowed and turned his face away. Joss suddenly felt very close to Shun'u. Would she face the same pain one day soon, the pain of parting from Houjun? A lump rose in her throat, and she pushed those thoughts away. Time enough to deal with it when the time came. But she couldn't blame Shun'u for wanting to keep a part of Houjun with him forever.

She decided to give the boy some space to recover his control, so she started rifling through his treasure bag. "What else have you got in…gyah!"

"What?" Shun'u lifted his head, interested.

"Why have you got dead woodlice in here?"

Shun'u lunged and took the bag from her, reaching inside. He stared sadly at the pillbug bodies curled up in his palm. "Well, they were alive a couple of days ago. I picked these up while we were spyin' on that shithead kid and his little sister. Though I guess I got no reason ta wanna remember _him."_ The woodlice were unceremoniously dumped into the fire. "Tired now," the boy muttered, stifling a yawn and shoving his treasures back into the bag. "I'm goin' back ta sleep."

Joss grinned at Shun'u. "Hey, why don't you ask _me_ for a lock of my hair?"

Shun'u smirked at her. "Why th' fuck would I want anythin' from a girl?_"_

"Yeah, yeah…get your ass in the tent before I give you a helpful kick."

Shun'u skittered out of her reach, laughing. Joss lingered outside for a moment, giving him time to get settled in his bedroll. She lifted a hand and ruefully felt the back of her head for something she had noticed this morning. Yep, there it was: a ragged, uneven chunk among the short wavy locks.

"Yeah," she muttered sarcastically. "And what's supposed to be the reason that I happen to be losing chunks of hair? Termites?"

****

Two days later, the weary travelers pulled up outside of a modest but respectable farm nestled in the foothills of Mount Reikaku. Joss looked up the rising hillside and recognized the mountain path that had led them to the lake where they had found the drowning Shun'u. She looked across at the boy mounted on the shaggy pony. She didn't know if it was his new haircut, but he suddenly appeared older, more masculine and resolute. Perhaps it was due to the new seriousness in his eyes as he gazed at his home. Life had shown Shun'u many things in the time that he had traveled with them.

He turned back and locked gazes with Houjun. Once again, Joss was amazed at the way Houjun brought out the best in Shun'u, and how the two seemed to share a deep visceral connection. The boy's voice was hesitant, pitched somewhat lower. "I don' wanna leave you guys. What if ya need me?"

Houjun didn't smile at the boy's inflated idea of his usefulness as a companion. "We will have to try to get by as best we can. I'm afraid that this is where our paths must part, at least for now." He paused, remembering Myou Juan's words. "If Suzaku is good, perhaps we will join up again some day." He found a strange conviction in his heart. "Yes--something tells me that this is not a final farewell, Shun'u."

Shun'u suddenly turned his back to them both, appearing to stare up at his farm. But Joss saw his hand go up to his eyes, and she knew that he was fighting back his sadness. She also felt a lump in her throat and turned her own eyes to the farm. On the nearest sloping field, the figure of a woman bent wearily over her task. She was either pulling weeds or planting seeds, a large sack suspended from her shoulder, her absorption in her work keeping her from noticing the new arrivals. Her long russet hair hung over her eyes, its coppery glint clearly showing her relationship to Shun'u.

"Well, I ain't gettin' anywhere jus' standin' here, so…" Shun'u dismounted and grabbed his small sack of treasures from the pony's saddlebags. Joss flashed a secret smile at him. She had kept his secret, true to her word--although she wasn't quite certain that his secret had lived up to the "non-infectious" part of the deal.

Houjun dismounted, followed shortly by Joss. He strode up to Shun'u and took the small boy into a warm embrace. "Take care of yourself, my young friend, for I expect you to have grown in both body and spirit when next we meet."

Shun'u muttered something into Houjun's chest that Joss couldn't hear, but she saw the magician smile. When Shun'u pulled back from Houjun, Joss approached for her own farewell.

"Listen, kid," she started, her voice choking strangely as she saw him drag his hand across his nose in his typical little-boy fashion. She couldn't get the next words out, so she just opened her arms expectantly.

"Uh-uh," Shun'u shook his head. "I don' go in for this girl-huggin' shit. Can't stand girls."

Joss laughed as she thought of all the times he had snuggled up to her in the tent. "Sure you don't, you little shit. How about a handshake, then?" She laughed again as she felt her outstretched hand grasped in his sticky grip.

Shun'u turned away and took a few steps towards his home…then suddenly rushed back as quick as the wind, hugging Joss so fiercely that she gasped for breath. Just as quickly, he was gone, running towards the woman in the field.

"Hey, 'Nee-san! 'Nee-san, it's me! I'm back home again!" Shun'u's voice was back to its usual high-pitched shriek.

The young woman looked up, dropping her sack in shock. She took a few stumbling steps towards her truant brother, then broke into a run, catching him as he ran towards her and crushing him to her breast. Joss and Houjun laughed as they watched Shun'u struggle, flailing his arms in her frantic embrace. Finally the boy was able to push back enough to get some air.

"Fuck it, Aidou, ya tryin' ta kill me? Whassa matter with ya?"

Aidou seemed to come to her senses, wiping angrily at the tears that ran down her face. "Where have you been, you little brat?" she shrieked, the familial hot temper making Joss and Houjun laugh again. "Pretending to be dead, leaving me with all your work!" She still couldn't seem to keep her hands off him, but she masked her desperate need to hold him by smacking him on the back and head, punctuating each blow with another shriek. "Shun'u no Baka, you _lying!_ _lazy!--_And what have you done to your HAIR?"

Shun'u pulled away as she grasped his spiky short locks with both hands. "Ow, damn it, Aidou, I thought you'd be glad ta see me! An' I cut my hair, 'cause I'm a man now, an' I'm sick of all that girly long hair hangin' down my back."

"_Man?"_ shrieked Aidou in fury. "We'll see how much of a _man_ you are when Kaa-san sees what you've done! You'd better run up to the house before I--"

Shun'u danced out of her reach before she could deal him another blow. He jogged backwards up the hill, waving to Houjun and Joss. "Ya see now why I hate girls?!" he shouted, then took off with his extraordinary speed to face the wrath of his bereaved mother.

Aidou suddenly registered the presence of the two strangers standing next to their horses. Her face twisted with strong emotion as she marched down to join them. 

"Uh-oh," breathed Joss. "Do you think that she's gonna give it to us now?" Houjun had no time to reply before Aidou was standing before them both.

Up close, they could see that her youthful beauty was flawed, made grim by circumstance: dark circles around her moody brown eyes, lines of pain drawn by her finely shaped mouth. "You," she choked. "You're the strangers that Kazue told me about, the ones that pulled him out of the lake that day!"

Houjun and Joss nodded mutely, waiting for the explosion of temper that they had seen so often in Shun'u.

Instead, Aidou suddenly broke into a brilliant smile, her eyes now shining with tears of joy and gratitude. Joss caught her breath at the instant transformation of this careworn young woman into a stunningly beautiful creature, as breathtaking as her brother in his best moments. She dropped down into a deep and humble bow, touching her forehead to the ground.

"_Arigatou,_" she choked. "I don't know how, but…you saved him, didn't you? I should have known better than to believe Kazue when she said that you had dumped his body back into the lake."

Houjun spoke at last. "Please, Aidou-san, accept our apologies for not returning him sooner. He was such a charming traveling companion." Joss tried to repress a snort and failed.

Aidou rose from her bow, still smiling that enchanting smile. "You are too kind to say so…too kind and not quite truthful!" Joss laughed aloud at Aidou's playful and perceptive observance. "May I invite you to the house for some tea or--?"

"I'm sorry, but we cannot linger, Aidou-san. We have people waiting for us."

"Neeee-saaan!" The high-pitched shriek carried all the way from the house on the slope. They could see the small figure of Shun'u jumping up and down. 

Aidou's face suddenly changed, her eyes hardening with a kind of wicked glee. "Please excuse me; I must return to the house to…_catch up_ with Shun'u." Her eyes softened once more as she turned back to wave to them. "Thank you again; thank you!"

Joss and Houjun watched her hurry up the slope to the small figure waiting above. Houjun sighed softly. "I think I'm going to miss him more than I realized."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"Joss!"

"Oh, all right, _maybe_ I'll miss him--but just a little bit. A little, tiny, _miniscule_ bit."

"Mm-hm. You can take your hand away from your eyes now; he's too far away to see you crying."

"I'm not crying! It's dust from…from the road. Damn these dusty roads!"

"We're on a grass path, Joss."

"Always one to belabor the fine points," Joss grumbled. "Have you had enough fun yet? The Doctor may be waiting for us."

Houjun laughed. "Don't be angry with me. If the Doctor's not there, we'll have to wait for him--and it would be sad if you're not speaking to me. After all, it will be just the two of us…alone."

Joss perked up immediately, her eyes wide. "I forgot about that!" She ran to the side of Houjun's horse, patting the saddle impatiently. "Well, what are you waiting for; let's ride!"

****

Less than two hours later, they dismounted near the placid waters of the mountain lake. Joss was just turning away from the saddle when Houjun caught her in his arms and seized her lips. She melted into his kiss, pulling him close, tasting his sweetness. They clung to one another as he leisurely explored her mouth, letting waves of sensation sweep through them. They finally broke apart, grinning at one another.

"We have to look for the cloth tied to a branch, just in case he's been here before us."

Joss sighed. "Do we have to be so responsible? I know that it was _my_ plan, but couldn't we look for it, uh, later?"

"Joss."

"Just a little bit later? A little, _teeny_ bit later?"

"That's not exactly flattering to me, your belief that we'll need only a little bit of time."

Joss laughed at Houjun's mock-wounded tone. "Oh, all right, but let's at least look quickly."

"The fastest way will be if we search the area from two different directions. I'll start over there," he pointed to a heavily wooded ridge on the eastern part of the lakeshore, "and you start over here, on the western shore. That way, we can meet in the middle."

Joss wrapped her arms around Houjun and nestled against his chest for a brief moment, inhaling his clean, sunlit scent. "Sounds like a plan to me, Master Magician! First one to the middle gets to make the first call!"

"First call of what?"

"Ah, that's the fun part! I'll explain it to you when you get there."

"Not if I get there first!"

"Fine, it's a race! Let's go!"

Joss plunged happily into the underbrush, her heart hammering in anticipation. "Remember the cloth, remember the cloth!" she scolded herself as she pulled at the branches of the shrubs and trees. She shouldn't lose sight of their purpose in searching the area, but she could barely breathe, she was so suffused with excitement. The air seemed heavy as well, although she could see a light wind moving the branches.

Subconsciously, she slowed, yielding to the languorous feel of this sultry day. She couldn't repress her happiness, however, humming snatches of old show tunes. "There were birds…in the air…but I never heard them singing. No, I never heard them at all, Till there was you." She felt silly and loopy and…"Wait a minute." Joss frowned, shaking off her lethargy. She _couldn't_ hear any birds--and that was downright weird on a bright summer day.

She looked up to see if there were thunderclouds threatening a summer storm--but the sky was clear, blue, shimmering. At that moment, it hit her--a powerful wave of evil: smoky, acrid, so pervasive that it caught in her throat, filling her lungs. She choked, clawing at her collar, desperately gasping for air. Just as she felt the corners of her vision turning dark, it was gone, releasing her to gasp in teary-eyed gratitude for the sweet flow of oxygen. The air was fresh and clean, washed and scented by the light breeze. She might have thought that she imagined the whole episode, except for the hairs standing straight up on her arms and neck.

"Houjun!" Joss shouted at the eastern ridge, not caring that she sounded panicky. "Houjun, did you feel that?"

Silence was all that answered her, the birds remaining stubbornly voiceless. Joss felt a rising tide of fear sweeping over her. "Come on, Houjun, I have to talk to you! Houjun? HOUJUN!"

The realization hit her like a blow, and she fell to her knees, knowing that he wasn't going to answer but unable to stop herself from screaming his name nonetheless. "Houjun! Houjun! _HOUJUN!"_

_****_

_****_

****

Glossary of Japanese Terms

Konbanha - Good evening; the correct spelling and pronunciation of a greeting frequently misrepresented as "Konbanwa."

Kaa-san - Mother (familiar, yet still respectful form)

Otou-san - Father (respectful, but not as formal as "chichi-ue.")

Onii-san - Elder Brother (respectful)

Sugoi! - amazing!

Nee-san - Elder sister (familiar)

Arigatou - Thank you

****

Author's Notes: (11-13-03) First of all, there is a VERY IMPORTANT warning at the end of this author note, so if you don't have the time or inclination to slog through my interminable ramblings and acknowledgements, please go straight to the end of this note now. I'm not kidding: big, important info there, minna.

Music credit: "Till There Was You," from "The Music Man," Words and Music By:Meredith Willson. Yes, I know that Joss has sung the lyrics a bit wrong, but I'll just give her some artistic license here, 'kay?

Next, a very grateful acknowledgement to Tetris no Miko for her online summation of the plot of Yuuai Den, the Chiriko Gaiden novel. However, since it was only a summary, I had to make up certain facts that were not specified, such as the names of Doukun's family members. Any inaccuracies in Chiriko's history are my fault, not the fault of Tetris no Miko.

All right, on a more upbeat note, there were some references in this chapter for those of you who know the Doctor, especially Jack! See if you can find a reference to the Third Doctor--and the Seventh. Or was it the Fourth? And Jack….(shakes him hard) Lucky, lucky, lucky you! I m so jealous! You got to meet Ace and Doc6? Urgh, I would've loved to be in your shoes! If you get the time, tell all in an e-mail.

Speaking of references, I deliberately did not credit the source of Joss' quote to Shun'u about wizards, just so I could quiz you. How many of you can tell me the source of that quotation? Extra points if you can name the character saying this. If you miss this one, Ryu-chan, I'm going to spank you! Answer to be posted next chapter, so that I can give credit where credit is due.

Research chatter: You might find it odd that Chiriko recognizes a yo-yo, but…like almost everything else I've researched, yo-yos are thought to originate in ancient China. So since the ShiJin is supposed to be an alternate universe of ancient China, it's possible that yo-yos existed there. (Oh, yes - _very_ important to be accurate about fantasy worlds! ) Also, you might be asking yourself how I know so much about yo-yos. You might be thinking that she is possibly quite skilled in that arena.

You might be wrong.

Here is the sum total of my empirically derived knowledge of yo-yos:

1) If you drop a yo-yo from your hand, it hits the ground and stays there.

2) BUT…if you yank _really_ hard on the string just before it hits the ground, it can come swinging back in a wide arc and clock you a good one in the head.

3) In general, heavy wooden yo-yos hurt more than plastic ones.

Thank God for the Internet and helpful Quicktime movies on how to perform "walk the dog," "rock the baby," and "around the world," or else I might be in a hospital right now. - -;; Speaking of which, for _more_ extra pop-quiz points, can any of you name the move the Doctor first demonstrated to Chiriko?

Okay, enough dithering and rambling AND quizzing--here's the serious stuff.

**Very Important Warning:** As you may have guessed from the cliffhanger ending, we are now entering a different phase of "Bridge Over the Abyss." In all honesty, despite its M-rating "Bridge" has essentially been a T fic, the exceptions being the violent ending to the failed exorcism and of course, Shun'u's (and Joss') foul language. However…Bridge is now turning a corner and entering deeply into "M" territory for the next few chapters. This rating means that this story is unsuitable for the young or sensitive reader. It's no accident that Shun'u has exited the story at this chapter; from this point onward, this is no place for children.

The major contributors to this rating will be scenes of shocking violence and intense horror, but there will also be adult sexual situations. I will _not _cross over into NC-17 material, but there is plenty to upset the sensitive reader while staying within the bounds of the M-rating. Please, _please,_ if you think that this sort of material will offend, confuse, or upset you, _please_ exit this story now. As those of you who have followed me from my debut fic "White Stones" should know, I am an adult who writes for adults, and I am giving fair warning that the M-rating of this story needs to be taken seriously.

Thank you,

Roku Kyu


	15. Into the abyss

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story, as well as the plotline, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

**Important Warning: **This chapter is rated "M"--restricted from those under age 17--for strong adult themes. Readers are cautioned that this chapter contains violence, abuse, adult sexual situations, and extremely crude language. Younger and sensitive readers are urged to avoid this chapter.

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Chapter 15. Into the Abyss

She ran through the underbrush, cursing as she chased the spooked horse in the rapidly dwindling daylight. Branches and brambles tore at her face and clothes, but she rushed on, heedless of their stinging barbs, heedless of anything but the need to accomplish at least _one_ fucking thing in this nightmare afternoon! She had wept and cursed everything in sight, even the bright sunlight that mocked her with its façade of normalcy. Now, as the afternoon sunlight deepened into twilight, she cursed it again, feeling her tenuous grip on sanity slipping with the fading light. 

She didn't want to go mad again. She didn't have time for that shit.

Finally forced to stop, she gasped great gulps of air as she bent over with exhaustion. She swiped angrily at her tear-streaked face, too winded to even curse anymore. Part of her wanted to just curl up on the ground and scream and cry until the world went away. "Did that already!" she gasped as her breath came back, remembering her panic and despair escalating at the lake. "Didn't fucking help, did it?" No, the world had come back as always…but it stubbornly refused to return Houjun to her. She forced herself to accept reality. "You want something done, you gotta do it yourself."

It had taken her a while to reclaim her sanity at the lake. She knew that she had to come up with a plan, but it was damned hard with her brain shrieking like a klaxon, _'He's gone, he's gone, he's GONE!'_ Her first thoughtless impulse had been to run back to Shun'u's farm and beg for help. But she knew that Shun'u was the only effective male there, having heard him mutter under his breath about the non-presence of his father. "Livin' with all them females all them years musta eaten his brain, cuz he don't do nothin' but his chores, then fades inta th' woodwork every night. I ain't turnin' out like that, I can tell ya!" Right now, Joss would have given one of her limbs to have Shun'u back again with his cocky, confident, down-to-earth attitude.

But that would be selfish beyond even the wildest imaginings of her damaged sanity. She knew damn well who had taken Houjun, and she knew that they wouldn't hesitate a heartbeat at killing a young boy who dared to confront them. Nor would she be able to force Shun'u into the background once he knew that Houjun was in danger. No, she refused to let him take that risk; she would just have to come up with a plan on her own.

She'd decided to concentrate on the immediate problem at hand and retrieve the horses. She was going to have to travel a long way, and if that meant learning how to control Houjun's horse, so be it. Except that Houjun's mount had refused to cooperate. It'd been badly spooked by the evil aura that had saturated the area when Houjun had been taken. Joss had been able to capture the docile shaggy pack pony, cello and all, but, she had been singularly unsuccessful in capturing his horse. The stubborn beast would let her approach within a few yards, then suddenly lay its ears back and bolt off deeper into the woods. "Couldn't be due to that aura of panic and rage I'm sending out, now could it?" she grumbled to herself before turning to backtrack to retrieve the pony from where she had tied it to a tree. She stumbled in the dimming light and cursed again. "Goddammit, Suzaku, you think that maybe _one _fucking thing might go my way? That's all I ask: one lousy _fucking_ break!"

At that moment, she heard the muffled thump of hoofbeats. She almost surged out of the brush, but something held her back. It wasn't Houjun's mount; the sound was of many horses approaching the path that she had just exited. She edged back cautiously behind a tree, peeking out to see who crossed the trail.

A group of horsemen cantered into sight, their ragged and colorful clothing identifying them as bandits. Joss almost ran out joyfully to meet them--she should have remembered Hakurou and the Mount Reikaku bandits!--but at that moment, they burst into laughter, crude, cruel and taunting, making her hesitate. A heavy-set young man trotted delicately into sight, his clothing so richly decorated that it bordered on the absurd. The other bandits moved aside for him, obviously deferring to him as their leader.

Joss swallowed and crouched down. Whoever this "leader" was, he certainly wasn't Hakurou. His oiled hair was slicked back and tied in a limp ponytail, and his pasty face was plastered with heavy makeup. She held her breath as he trotted near her hiding place, then released it as he turned to face his men, triumphantly brandishing a handful of jewels.

"Fine sport, my dears! A rich merchant taken down right under the nose of that upstart brat Hakurou! Won't he gnash his teeth when he finds out!"

"Er, Keiron, I mean Leader, how's he gonna find out?"

"When he discovers the body of that whining fool sprawled across the main path on his beloved mountain."

Another one of the bandits laughed coarsely. Joss caught her breath when she realized his clothes were spattered with blood. "Eh, and din't he squeal like a hog at th' butcher's block? 'But I thought the Mount Reikaku bandits din't kill nobody!' he cries just afore I cut 'im! Now he knows his mistake, takin' us fer them soft-headed pussies. He'll know ta watch out fer th' Mount Kaou bandits in his next life!"

The bandits burst into another round of crude laughter, Keiron's high-pitched titter forming a sharp contrast against their loud guffaws. Joss remained very still, hoping that the intruders would ride off with their spoils before they discovered her presence. She had no doubt as to her fate should they come upon her.

At that moment, more hoofbeats thudded on the path. Joss watched as the legs of two more horses pranced into view, and recognized the distinctive white stockings of Houjun's horse. "Here, Leader, found us another horse. Din't think that mark 'ad more'n two horses wit' him, but guess it's jus' our lucky night!"

Keiron dismounted and walked over to Houjun's horse. He briefly examined Houjun's ash staff that had been strapped to the saddle, then disdainfully threw it into the underbrush. Pulling open the saddlebags, he examined their contents, then threw them aside as well. "Useless!" he hissed. "This creature has nothing of value on it." Suddenly his beady eyes narrowed even further. "In fact, I believe that this horse has nothing to do with our dear departed merchant at all. You!" he shouted at one of his men. "Search the area and see if there's anyone around who may be willing to…_barter_ for his horse," he smirked.

Joss drew back, looking fearfully around her for small twigs that might snap and betray her presence if she backed away. At that moment, a high-pitched voice rang out.

"Let me do it, Onii-chan! You said that I could be a real Mount Kaou bandit now!"

Joss paused, realizing that a small, slim figure was mounted on a pony in the center of the group. It was clothed in bandit trousers and tunic and wore a turban-like head scarf wrapped around its features.

Keiron suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "Ah, my dearest one, please don't ask that of your Onii-chan. His heart breaks with worry over you wandering in these woods alone, my treasure."

"But Onii-chan, you promised!" The young voice changed to a winsome wheedle. "I won't go far, I swear it! I'll stay within calling distance. Pleeease, 'Nii-chan--how else can I learn to be a bandit?"

Keiron hesitated, his repulsive features softening into a silly, indulgent smile. "Oh, very well, ReiRei, you know that I can refuse you nothing! But be sure to answer when I call you, or Onii-chan's heart will stop with fear!"

The child nodded, then trotted towards Joss' part of the woods, the other bandits giving the small figure a respectful berth. Keiron signaled to the group, and they rode a short way up the path. Joss noted that although they appeared to leave the child to his mission, they stayed within calling distance. She had barely started to back away from her hiding place when the child was suddenly upon her, bright hazel eyes staring into hers.

Joss gasped in dismay, but the child raised a hand in warning before untying the headscarf. Joss was stunned to see that she was confronting a little girl who looked to be no older than eleven, her dark hair bound up in two buns on either side of her head. Her sparkling eyes crinkled in mischief as she held a finger to her lips.

"Don't make a sound," she warned in her childish chirp. "I knew that you were here right away." She preened herself with childish vanity. "I'm a better bandit than any of Onii-chan's men!" Her gaze darkened. "But those men…and…and my Onii-chan--they'll do terrible things to you if they find you. So stay here real quiet, and I'll lead them all away."

Joss was shocked by the worldly knowledge of this small child. What atrocities had she witnessed in her short life? She couldn't help but reach out to the girl, although she was well aware of the risk she was taking. "Do they…hurt you there? Do you want to go away with me?"

The girl's hazel eyes widened in surprise. "No one hurts me; Onii-chan would never allow that!" She glanced back over her shoulder and sighed. "But sometimes…sometimes the things they do make me sick! So maybe I will leave one day, but right now, Onii-chan is the only family I have."

At that moment, her brother's voice sounded from a spot not far off. "ReiRei!" His oily tones held a note of panic. "Where are you, my dear one? Onii-chan is getting worried!"

ReiRei held a finger to her lips and backed away swiftly. Joss saw her run out to rejoin her brother. "I'm all right, Onii-chan! I just wanted to make a real good search of the area, just like a real bandit would!"

Keiron's face broke into another simpering smile. "You make your Onii-chan so proud, my treasure! And did you find anything?"

"Yes! Two rabbit holes and a pretty rock!" Joss was amazed by how childish the little girl sounded. There was no sign of the perspicacious youngster who had confronted her. At that moment, there was a soft snapping sound beside her. Joss cursed her bad luck; it was just a falling acorn, but it was enough to betray her presence.

Keiron's head snapped up, and he stared into the underbrush with suspicious eyes. "Maybe I should make another search of the area myself." Joss' heart leapt up in panic.

"No!" ReiRei stamped her tiny foot. "If you don't trust me, then I don't wanna be a bandit in your gang! You don't love me, Onii-chan!" She began to wail in a childish tantrum. "My brother doesn't love me!"

Keiron's attention was immediately diverted to his little sister. "Oh, don't say such cruel things to your Onii-chan, my dearest! Onii-chan loves you more than gold! You are his most precious treasure!"

Joss was caught between laughter and nausea. But ReiRei's diversion was effective: the bandit leader trailed after the wailing girl, offering more and more ludicrous claims of heartfelt devotion as the child cleverly led him away from Joss' hiding place. Soon all of the bandits were remounted, leading Houjun's captive mount and following the sniffling girl as she demanded proof of her brother's love in the form of a fabulous meal back at their Mount Kaou stronghold.

She sat still long after the last hoofbeats faded away, her heart hammering from the near-disaster of that strange encounter. If it hadn't been for that little girl, she would be dead right now--dead or worse. If she were going to do Houjun any good, she had to stay alert and get out of this area where ruthless bandits roved the mountain paths. _Houjun,_ thought Joss, then crept carefully from tree to tree until she approached the place where Keiron had thrown the ash staff. She dashed out into the open and grabbed the staff.

Suddenly, she heard the rapid tattoo of approaching hoofbeats. "Damn it! They're coming back!" Joss panicked, seeing that she couldn't reach the tree cover before being spotted in the open. She turned and fled up the path, running for her life. The hoofbeats pounded towards her, and she knew the rider was in hard pursuit. Leaping off the path, she plunged into the trees, her ears filled with the pounding rush of blood and her own gasps for air. The hoofbeats stopped, but she didn't slow down, crashing through the underbrush, knocking against tree trunks in the dim bluish twilight.

Suddenly a hand grabbed at her shoulder and pulled her back. Joss couldn't help it: she screamed in terror as she swung Houjun's staff up in a last-ditch attempt to defend herself. The staff was caught in an iron grip, so she released it and pushed wildly against the shadowed figure, all the while screaming curses in blind panic.

The figure held her tightly but not painfully, and she finally realized that he was shouting her name, trying to get her to hear him above her own wild shouts. "Joss! Joss, stop it, it's me! Joss, don't be afraid, Joss, please _hear me!"_

The next thing that registered in her mind was the feel of velvet beneath her wildly flailing hands--and tshe lost it. "Doctor!" she wailed as she had that previous time…but this time she couldn't stop. "Doctor, Doctor,_Doctor!_" she howled, clutching frantically at him as she released all of her grief, fear, and horror. She knew she should be telling him all that had happened but couldn't seem to stop crying long enough to get the words out.

She felt herself lifted and pulled into his body--God, he was so strong--and then his hands were all over her, stroking her back and hair with short jerky caresses. As her gasping sobs began to calm, she heard him muttering under his breath, a steady rhythm of words in some strange guttural language, something that sounded like either a string of curses or a prayer. She burrowed deeper into him, as if she could crawl inside him, where he would keep her safe forever.

His jumble of alien words gradually changed to English, and she began to make out broken phrases as his lips moved in her hair. "…thought I'd left it too late…thought I'd be too late again…_Rassilon, _I thought I'd lost you!" Raw emotion stripped the velvet from his voice, leaving it rough and husky as he gasped his own panic, releasing the terror that had haunted him through the long and frantic ride that had brought him to her. He clutched her desperately, grasping her almost painfully as if he needed to reassure himself of her reality in his arms.

Joss wanted nothing more than to hold him and be held, to reassure him that everything was all right--but it _wasn't_ all right, it was terribly, _obscenely_ wrong, and she had to stop crying so that she could tell him! "Doctor," she finally choked, "they've taken him! They've taken Houjun!" and the shock of hearing the words spoken aloud made her burst helplessly into tears once again.

"No, hush, don't cry, Joss! We'll get him back, I swear it! The important thing is that you're all right."

"Important?" Joss gasped through her tears, shocked. "_I'm_ not important; Houjun is the one you're supposed to be worried about!"

"I'm worried about _both_ of you; you bothmatter a great deal to me, Joss! However, I know that they won't kill Houjun…not yet anyway. Magus has some purpose for which he intends to use him. It was you that I was frightened for; Magus' people would kill you without a second thought if you stood in their way. I don't know how you survived…I'm just thankful…" His voice broke.

Joss gripped him tighter, listening to that strange arrhythmic hammering in his chest. She felt almost dizzy with conflicting emotions: shame at doubting his loyalty to Houjun, panic over Houjun's fate--and a strange spreading warmth at the realization of her importance to the Doctor. Was it possible to be in love with two men at the same time? 'You're an idiot, Joss!' she scolded herself silently. 'Concentrate on getting Houjun back alive before you start planning a harem!' That thought was so ludicrous that her sobs turned into choked laughter, enabling her to regain control of herself at last.

The Doctor gave her a final squeeze, then pushed her back to meet her eyes, smiling a crooked, wry smile. "That's the spirit, Joss! One thing at a time, and before you know it, we'll have him back."

Joss flushed at the realization that the Doctor had read her thoughts. So then he knew that she… Suddenly she didn't care. Life was too short and too dangerous not to let the people you loved know how you felt about them. She pulled on his hand as he turned to lead her away, forcing him to face her.

"I do, you know." She lifted her chin resolutely. "It's not the same as with Houjun, but it's just as strong--and just as real." She tried to make out his expression in the twilight. Would he pretend that he didn't know what she meant?

The Doctor paused a moment, his eyes shining darkly in the last light of the day. "Yes, I know," he replied in his soft, velvety voice. He pulled her to his side, and they began to make their way through the darkness together.

****

He slowly swam up towards consciousness, forcing his mind to part the mists. He could feel his nausea increasing and his throbbing headache pounding harder--but something inside him urgently commanded him to wake up, _wake up,_ _Wake UP!_ Grimacing around the pain, he forced his eye open, only to see--

Nothing. He was buried in darkness, drowning in shadows. Blinking a few times, he felt his eye open and close, but still the darkness refused to yield. He forced down his panic. No, he was neither blind nor dead; he just needed to gather his wits and find out where he was. He could hear his own panting breath, feel the slight chill of a draft upon his face, smell the acrid, bitter odor of something burning near him. Just as he registered the scent, he became dizzy and nauseous, feeling every separate throb in his aching head. 'Don't faint!' commanded some inner voice. At that moment, he felt the draft brush past his face, and the acrid odor went away. His head cleared, and he realized that it was the smoke that was making him sick. If only he could get away from it.

He tried to move, but something held him fast by his wrists. However, he found that he was able to turn his head, so he tilted it away from the smoke, inhaling the damp, musty air of the intermittent drafts. His strategy worked: the headache backed down to a bearable level, and the nausea almost disappeared altogether. Rolling his eye towards the source of the smoke, he was grateful to see a dim, blurry glow of light nearby. He concentrated until the glow came into sharp focus: it was from a brazier that was heating a bowl of strange herbs and producing the noxious fumes.

His memories returned with his lucidity: Joss; the woods; the heavy, oppressive feeling turning into choking, asphyxiating evil-- His heart leapt in dread. What had happened to Joss? "Joss?" he called, his voice a rasping croak. No answer, but that didn't surprise him, since he was unable to detect her ki anywhere nearby. He fought down his fear and anxiety. He had to get out of here if he was going to rescue her, and his mind was shrieking that he had to get out _now!_

Muttering a spell under his breath, he widened his one pupil until he could see with catlike night vision. He was in a dark, high-ceiling room, but it was no room that he had ever seen before. However, he sensed the familiarity of his surroundings and recognized the grey stone of the damp and mildewed walls. He was back in the school of the warrior-magicians, once again a prisoner in that grim and mysterious place.

Panic and revulsion caused him to unthinkingly hiss out a transmigration spell. His body started to move but was slammed back in place by whatever held his wrists. "A holding spell," he thought, as a wave of dizziness swept over him once more. He fought it back, concentrating on the spell at his wrists, a spell enhanced by the iron manacles fastening his wrists to a beam of wood, which was in turn bolted to the wall. He couldn't disperse the spell directly, but perhaps he could adjust it. Grimacing in concentration, he forced the spell back in small increments: pushing it to hold only four of his fingers, then three, then two, then one. At the same time, he worked his hands through the manacles, folding his thumbs inward and straining against the unyielding bracelets. He gritted his teeth at the painful scrape of the iron, at the same time grateful for the lubricating action of his own blood.

Now his hands were nearly free, except for his little fingers still held fast by the imprisoning spell. He felt the spell slipping past his control to advance once more, so he dropped his center, using his weight to yank hard on both hands. He gasped in pain as both fingers broke under the strain--but he'd managed to slip completely free! Wiping his bloodied hands against his trousers, he stumbled through the room, only to be brought up short by a heavy wooden door. It refused to yield to simple pushing, so he focused his ki around the red haze of pain and transmigrated to the other side.

Darkness again, this time unbroken by the glow of lamps. He stumbled forward and tripped over a stack of rolling, roundish objects. Turnips, by the smell of them. He knew where he was now: the root cellar of the gakkou. To his relief, he found the staircase and climbed rapidly up to the ground level of the school. He pushed hard at the heavy door, almost sobbing in relief, and slammed the door open--

--right into a soft, heavy object that flew back from the assault. Houjun stared in horror at the crumpled figure of the student that lay in the dim corridor. He ran over to the sprawled and groaning youth, pulling him gently upright. "Are you all right? I didn't mean to…" He broke off as he recognized the tan underclassman mask and the dark hair with steely highlights tied up into a high ponytail. "Maboroshi!" he gasped.

Maboroshi blinked, then started in shock at the sight of Houjun. Houjun knew that he must be a terrifying sight in this cloistered place, with his bloodied hands and unmasked face. He raised a hand to touch his face--yes, the mystical mask that Taiitsukun had given him was still in place, but to the young student's eyes, he must look like a wild bandit: dirty, bloody, panting for breath. Maboroshi skittered back, his eyes darting wildly as he looked for a means of escape.

"No, Maboroshi, don't be frightened! It's me, Hou…er, Shouryuu."

"Shouryuu?" Maboroshi's green eyes were wide behind his mask. "But you're supposed to be--"

"Dead, yes, I know," Houjun interrupted, staring anxiously up the deserted corridor. "I can't explain everything to you right now; I have to get out of here before they find me!" He looked back at Maboroshi and repressed a shudder at the familiar avid stare from the underclassman. He tried not to think about the fact that with his exposed face and rumpled clothes, he must appear nearly naked before his one-time admirer. However, he couldn't afford to offend Maboroshi, or the boy might raise the alarm.

"Maboroshi-kun," he tried to keep his voice low and controlled, "have you seen either Magus or Kurayami?"

Maboroshi frowned in confusion. "Magus-sensei is in his study, but I haven't seen Kurayami-dono all afternoon. Do you want me to get them? I should tell them--"

_"No!"_ Houjun winced as Maboroshi flinched back. "I'm sorry, Maboroshi-kun, I don't mean to shout, but I need to… May I borrow your robe? I need to get outside without attracting notice."

Maboroshi scowled. "Why? Where are you going? Are you trying to leave me again?"

Houjun shook his head in confusion. What was Maboroshi talking about, '_leave me again'_? He repressed a sigh. Here he was trying to escape with his life but ending up caught in an argument with an obsessive adolescent. The only thing he could do was to keep Maboroshi from doing anything foolish until he'd made it safely out of the confines of the school.

"Maboroshi, please. I have to get out of here, and I don't have the time to explain everything to you. It's very complicated."

"Are you going to rejoin your friend Bomen-san?" The youth's voice was thick with sarcasm. "Do you miss him so much already?"

Houjun stared. He'd forgotten that episode with Maboroshi and the Doctor; so much had happened in the interim. His hands were beginning to throb, the broken fingers swelling, but he tried to focus around the pain. What had happened to make Maboroshi speak of the Doctor with such contempt? Was it because the Doctor had rebuked him for trying to read another's ki?

It suddenly occurred to Houjun that he didn't feel the usual insidious scratching at his mind that signaled Maboroshi's attempts to read his ki. He would have thought that now of all times, Maboroshi would be attempting a mind-scan, considering his senior's wild and unfamiliar appearance. But the boy stared blankly at him…

…stalling him, Houjun realized at last. He saw Maboroshi flush and glance over Houjun's left shoulder--his blind side. Houjun whirled to face whatever or whoever Maboroshi was looking at, then felt a sharp pain as something connected hard with the back of his head…

...and knew nothing more.

****

Cold. Darkness. Pain.

She shuddered, then relaxed as she felt the familiar brush of velvet against her cheek. Arching her back to alleviate the dull pain in her spine, she felt the ground roll beneath her. Still on horseback, then. Still riding, the hours of light and darkness flowing into one another until she no longer knew how much time had passed. Had they been riding for two days--or three? She wasn't sure; the borders of her world had shrunk to this small space on the horse's back, even through the depths of night. The Doctor had tied her to his own body with a silk sash, keeping her from falling off whenever she fell asleep. He himself had kept moving, never sleeping, never stopping except to change horses at the small rough inns along the way, urging _her_ to freshen up or eat but never taking any sustenance or rest for himself.

She heard the Doctor's voice murmuring softly, speaking to someone, asking something. Forcing her eyes open, she focused on the grey light of pre-dawn. Small, rough houses nestled in rolling foothills, resting on the lower slopes of a high misty mountain. This village was larger and richer than Kawagishi Village, the nearby slopes golden with wheat fields while the lower fields were checkered with rice paddies. However, Joss felt as if an aura of sadness lay over the prosperous-looking grounds.

Or perhaps she was picking up the aura from the middle-aged woman clad in miko's robes who was shaking her head regretfully at the Doctor's queries. Melancholy lay heavy on her fine-boned but careworn features, lines of sorrow crossing her brow and resting near her lovely mouth. Something about her made Joss snap wide awake, feeling as if she knew this woman. It might have been her faint resemblance to Ruiko-sama, but Joss couldn't help but feel there was something else--something that nagged at her subconscious.

"I am very sorry," the woman repeated. "But we are not a large village; we do not have an inn. To provide you with a fresh horse, I would have to ask one of the villagers to give up a workhorse, and we need all the animals we have to work the fields."

"But couldn't you use the horse I'm leaving here after he has rested?" The Doctor's voice was at its most charming and persuasive.

The miko sighed and shook her head. "That is not a plowhorse, Sumisu-san," she replied, taking in the slender legs and trim frame of the horse the Doctor had obtained at the last inn. "Nor do I believe that any of our farm horses will carry you as fast as you need. Perhaps you should rest your horse and yourselves," she added, looking keenly into Joss' bloodshot eyes, "and continue your journey tomorrow. I will be happy to give you a place to stay. My home is open to the weary traveler."

"Thank you very kindly, Midori-sama, but our need is urgent, and speed is of the essence! Are you sure there isn't any way--?"

"Midori-sama!" gasped Joss in shock. "Are you the miko--the woman who--?" She rapidly unfastened the silk sash that tied her to the Doctor and slid to the ground. The Doctor followed her, frowning in confusion.

"The Shrine of the Four Gods; the failed exorcism!" Joss choked out broken phrases, while the miko went white with shock.

"How did you know?" the woman gasped. "No one outside our village--unless Magus-sensei…"

"No!" barked Joss. "We have nothing to do with him! But Midori-sama, we need your help."

The miko held her hand up to her heart, and the Doctor leapt to support her. Joss flushed guiltily, but Midori-sama waved away their concern. "I'm fine," she protested. "The pain in my heart does not come from illness, but from guilt." Her eyes lifted to meet Joss' gaze, holding a world of sadness in their depths. "You see, you have reminded me that I'm guilty of murder. I'm responsible for the death of an innocent young man."

"No, you're not!" argued Joss. "It was a plot--a set-up! Toumo was the innocent victim of a conspiracy against Hou…er, Shouryuu."

"It is not Toumo of whom I speak, but the young magician who sought to save him." Midori-sama's eyes filled with tears, while the Doctor held up his hand and shook his head, mutely warning Joss to keep silent. "I…the blood…the death of Toumo…I was distraught! I should never have gone back into the shrine; I should have waited until I had recovered from my injuries. But I went in anyway, and the magician Shouryuu was standing there. He was white and trembling, but I…all I could see was Toumo's trusting smile. I started looking for his _ki_--and I couldn't find it! I lashed out at Shouryuu, accusing him of terrible crimes, of the destruction of Toumo's soul! He ran out of the temple, and I never saw him again. It wasn't until a little while later, praying with Oshou-sama, that I found Toumo's ki. It had been hiding in the dark corners of the temple, frightened of what had transpired, of the violence of his death. But we guided it to the paths of heaven--and only then did I realize that I had condemned Shouryuu to the paths of hell."

The miko sobbed. "I heard the next day that they'd found the young man's mask next to the river, for he had drowned himself out of guilt. It was _my_ words, _my_ harsh condemnation that drove him to take his own life…and I will carry the stain of his blood on my hands to the grave."

"No, no, no, no, no!" The Doctor's voice was at once urgent and soothing. "He didn't die, Midori-sama. We are his friends, and we can assure you that he survived! But we took him away to protect him from those who wished to harm him, and allowed everyone to believe that he was dead."

The miko's teary eyes met Joss' gaze, filled with disbelief and dawning hope.

"Yes, it's true!" Joss reassured firmly. "But Midori-sama, they found us and took him away again! _He's_ the reason that we are in such desperate need; we _must_ get to him before it's too late!"

"Kurayami-san." Midori-sama's voice was flat. "She masked herself and her ki, but I could sense evil in that temple: evil that I mistakenly attributed to Shouryuu. She's behind this, isn't she? " 

"We believe so, Midori-sama, but there may be others as well. We need--"

"Do not ask again; there is no need. I will get you a horse, even if I have to pull the plow myself! Life so seldom gives us second chances; I will not fail him again!"

True to her word, Midori-sama soon had a sleepy, irritable farmer leading a large and sturdy horse into the square. The farmer grumbled at the sight of the exhausted, small-boned horse he was getting in temporary trade but yielded to the unaccustomed fire in the village priestess' eyes.

The horse was soon saddled, and Joss reluctantly turned over the care of their shaggy pack pony to Midori-sama. "He's too tired to travel any more, but we will be back for him," Joss promised.

Midori-sama took the pony's lead rein with reverent seriousness. "I will look after him for you. And until you return, I will be praying for your success. Suzaku keep you in his care!"

"Somehow I think that he's doing just that," murmured Joss as they rode out of the village towards the rising sun. "Either that, or life is suddenly full of giant coincidences."

"Perhaps you're right--but Suzaku's involvement has its limitations."

"What limitations does a god have?"

"I suspect that we are about to find out," muttered the Doctor darkly.

****

"Wake up! Come on, open your eyes!" The voice was urgent and angry--and definitely outside his head.

He didn't need to open his eyes to know that he was back where he started. He could feel the cold grip of the manacles on his swollen, aching hands and smell the sickening odor of the sedative herbs. All his escape attempt had netted him was an additional throbbing ache at the back of the head--that, two broken fingers, and the informing of his captors that even drugged and weakened, he still possessed the ability to slip his bonds.

"Aren't you _ever_ going to wake up?" The voice had turned petulant. 

Houjun felt his face grasped in a strong grip. He remained limp and unresisting, wanting to keep his consciousness hidden until he had a chance to survey his situation. Stealthily, he sent out his ki to make a quick and subtle reconnaissance. There was no one else in the room; just him and his captor. Suddenly, he was distracted by a puff of warm breath on his cheek. Before he could react, he felt something warm and wet trace his lips, then thrust into his mouth.

With a muffled cry of revulsion, he instinctively tried to transmigrate. The manacles slammed his body back in place, but the violent back-and-forth motion flung his assailant halfway across the room. Houjun opened his eyes, meeting the furious glare of Maboroshi as he picked himself off the floor.

The youth strode over to Houjun and slapped him across the face. "Don't think you can trick me again! Don't think you can go on laughing at me!"

Houjun turned his head and wiped his bleeding mouth on his shoulder. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with you, Maboroshi? I thought that we were friends."

"Friends!" Maboroshi's voice dripped with contempt. "How many times do you think I'll fall for that one? You've never felt friendship for me! I was just someone to be used and laughed at until you didn't need me anymore!"

"That's not true." Houjun forced down a twinge of guilt, remembering his irritation with Maboroshi in the past. "I've never laughed at you, nor used you. I _did_ think of us as friends."

"Then why did you leave me _behind?"_ The raw anguish in the boy's cry shocked Houjun into silence. Maboroshi took his silence for an admission of guilt, and his expression grew furious once again. "You can stop lying to me; I know all about it! She told me! She told me how you had laughed about my gullibility, how you had mocked me while you were riding into town with her. She told me how you had killed that simpleton so that you could fake your own death and escape with _him--_that man, Bomen-san or whatever he calls himself!"

The boy continued to rant, pouring out the bitterness of his perceived betrayal. "You never cared about me at all! All you wanted me for was to cover for you and your lover--so as far as I'm concerned, you _deserved_ to be betrayed! I did the right thing when I…" Maboroshi stopped as awareness flashed through Houjun's eyes.

Houjun forced back the shock and anger. No, it wasn't Maboroshi he should be angry with, nor should he be shocked. Anyone cold enough to sacrifice innocent Toumo would hardly hesitate to play on this boy's paranoia and sense of inferiority. Just now, Maboroshi had betrayed the guilt that was helping to feed his rage. If only he could reach the boy… 

"Listen, Maboroshi," Houjun tried to keep his voice gentle and reasonable, "these are all lies. They've played us against each other for their own purposes, whatever those might be. But you don't have to fall into their trap." Houjun concentrated as he stared into the boy's tearful, angry gaze, trying to reach him with his ki, trying to show him that he was being truthful. "I don't blame you for telling them about Bomen-san. They must have backed you into a corner the same way they trapped me. But we can escape the trap together. We can leave and never come back."

Maboroshi blinked and lifted his hands towards the manacles--then suddenly flinched back as if he had been burned. "You did it! I felt your ki--you tried to manipulate me. Like you've always manipulated me!" His infuriated expression shifted, becoming sly and sneering. "But I'm not as stupid as I used to be, Shouryuu-_senpai._ She taught me how to defend myself against mental manipulation."

"Except for hers!" Houjun snarled, frustrated at the stubborn obtuseness of the boy. "She's the one who's doing all the manipulating here--she and Magus, and you're nothing to them but a tool, a means of getting to me!"

The boy's face darkened with rage. "You lie! You lie like you've always lied, because you can't stand to be bested! Well, I have news for you, Shouryuu-_senpai_. You're nobody next to me! I have a great destiny before me: she showed me!" Maboroshi's hand strayed to his right hip and stroked the area near his groin.

Houjun closed his eye, mistaking the significance of Maboroshi's action. He shuddered at the thought of any kind of intimate interaction with Kurayami. "Congratulations," he rasped. "You two should be very happy together." He opened his mystical eyes and stared at Maboroshi. "So answer me this: why do you need me? Why not let me go, and I'll leave you to your great destiny?"

"Fool!" hissed Maboroshi. "It isn't like that between me and Kurayami-dono." Suddenly he smirked. "Besides, my tastes are different_--very_ different." He moved up so that he was practically nose-to-nose with Houjun. "I have a story to tell you, Shouryuu-senpai. Once, on a day not so very long ago, you treated me with the contempt that you've always shown for me. But on that day, I swore that you would one day kneel before me." He moved even closer so that his lips nearly touched Houjun's. Houjun turned his face away from Maboroshi's warm, fetid breath. 

Maboroshi's voice was a silken whisper. "So do you think that day has come, Shouryuu? Perhaps I am now the _senpai_--and you are the _kouhai!_"

He grabbed Houjun by the jaw and forced his face around, plunging his tongue into the depths of his mouth.

Houjun struggled wildly, overcome with revulsion at the feeling of that warm, wet _thing_ invading him, twining around his own tongue. He choked as Maboroshi's saliva ran down his chin, wondering if he would smother to death under this mindless assault. Finally Maboroshi pulled back, and Houjun drew in an explosive breath of air. But Maboroshi was on him again in a second, pushing his tongue against Houjun's clenched teeth and rubbing his body against his captive. Houjun fought down nausea as he felt Maboroshi's arousal pushing hard against him. Rage flooded through his being, and he struck back with another abortive transmigration attempt, flinging the boy back.

Maboroshi got to his feet and approached him again, his eyes glowing with rage and lust. He reached out a hand to Houjun--

"Stop it!" Houjun's voice rang with such authority that Maboroshi paused. "Stop this idiocy at once, Underclassman!"

Maboroshi stared at Houjun for a moment--then began to laugh, a soft, sibilant cackle that raised the hairs on Houjun's neck. "Did I…" he stopped and cackled again. "Did I never tell you, Shouryuu-senpai, that I've always found your scolds to be very…arousing?" He approached close and muttered a spell as he touched the manacles, trailing his fingers from the iron bracelets to Houjun's shoulders. Houjun felt his body pinned back at the shoulders and knew that he was now unable to transmigrate at all.

Maboroshi surveyed Houjun with satisfaction. "That will do for now," he purred. "But please feel free to bark more orders at me, Shouryuu-senpai. I very much…enjoy it." He pressed his body hard against Houjun once more. Houjun willed himself to stand still, realizing that any reaction only encouraged Maboroshi.

Maboroshi groaned with pleasure as he moved his hand to Houjun's trousers. He squeezed hard, eliciting a gasp of pain from his senior. "It doesn't have to be like this," he whispered. "I could bring you pleasure, more pleasure than you could imagine, Shouryuu. I could make you forget _him."_

'Him?' thought Houjun, dazed under the assault. 'Oh, the Doctor.' Suddenly his mind cleared. The Doctor--the Doctor and Joss. They _had_ to be coming for him; he only had to hold out until they arrived. _'If they're still alive,'_ whispered the traitorous part of his mind. No, they _had_ to be alive; he wouldn't allow himself any other possibility.

"You're not paying attention!" whined Maboroshi, frustrated at Houjun's non-response to his rough caresses. He tugged at the string at Houjun's waist, then plunged his hand down his trousers.

Houjun gasped at the violation, feeling himself grasped intimately and roughly, the clumsy hand stroking along his length. Bile crept up into his throat as rage reddened his vision; Maboroshi had no right, he had no _right!_

Just then, Maboroshi cried out in disappointment. "What's wrong with you? Why won't you respond?"

"Would I respond to a dog humping my leg?!" Houjun snarled in rage.

Maboroshi hissed and struck him hard in the face. "Still on your high horse! Don't you understand? You're my whore now, and I'll have you on your knees!" His greenish-yellow eyes narrowed in sadistic amusement. "Why should I care if you feel anything other than pain? You're the one who's here for_my_ pleasure, whore!"

With that, he hissed out a spell. The crossbeam that held the manacles dropped to half its height, sending Houjun crashing to his knees. He gasped in agony, wondering if he had any kneecaps left, when Maboroshi's slippers swam into his blurred view. His head was yanked back hard by his ponytail, and Maboroshi's voice sounded above his head as he fumbled with his trousers.

"I have something for you, Shouryuu-senpai," he sing-songed, then cackled in that weird way again. "Here you go!"

Shouryuu turned his face away from the boy's swollen flesh, once again feeling himself overtaken with rage.

"No, you don't!" hissed Maboroshi, dragging Houjun's face back by pulling on his ponytail. "You'll do as I say from now on--and I say that you'll take me in your mouth and suck me off while I fuck your mouth, and when I come…when I come, you'll swallow and thank me kindly for the privilege!"

"You've forgotten something, Maboroshi," Houjun snarled.

"What's that, whore?"

"I still have teeth!"

"You bitch!" Maboroshi drew back and hit Houjun hard across the face again.

At that moment, another voice echoed in the chamber, raspy, androgynous and filled with amusement. "You boys and your games. Can't you even _try_ to keep your minds on business?"

Maboroshi stood stunned, as Houjun fought to focus on the small figure that glided toward them in the dim lamplight. He recognized the long black hair, the rosy lips curved in amusement--and the snakelike yellow eyes gleaming behind the gakkou's black mask.

"So you're here at last," he rasped, feeling blood trickle into his mouth from his nose. However, Kurayami's attention was focused on Maboroshi.

"Maboroshi-kun," she purred, "cover yourself. You have no idea how foolish you look right now."

Maboroshi flushed and fumbled hastily with his trousers. Kurayami turned her attention to Houjun and smiled, showing her small, pointed teeth. "Please excuse me for my tardiness. I was caught up in my duties at the school, duties that have increased in the past few weeks due to our unexpected loss of staff."

Houjun glared from his kneeling position. "Please excuse me for my lack of sympathy. You should have considered that consequence when you planned that loss of staff."

A raspy laugh. "Well said, Shouryuu; I can see that you still have some fight left in you--and that pleases me."

"Why? That's the question, isn't it? What do you want from me? And how does this…" he jerked his chin contemptuously in Maboroshi's direction, "…fit in with Magus' plan?"

"It doesn't." The rosy lips curved wider. "That fool Magus would never tolerate the abuse of his favored senior student. So it's a fortunate thing for Maboroshi that Magus has no idea of his actions, nor of your presence here," she glided forward, locking gazes with Houjun, "Right. Under. His. Nose."

Houjun clenched his teeth. So the Doctor had been correct: Kurayami _did_ have a different agenda than Magus. However, it was still unclear what that agenda might be. "So what's the point in bringing me back? It's difficult to believe that you have spent so much time pursuing and capturing me merely for the purpose of making me into Maboroshi's plaything."

"_Maboroshi's_ plaything?" Kurayami's laugh was throaty, chilling. "Oh no, Shouryuu. I brought you back here to make you into…mine."

At that, Houjun felt it for the first time since his capture - cold, insidious, snaking around his insides like an icy serpent… 

Terror.

****

The two travelers stood breathless before the shimmer in the rolling foothills, a shimmer that persisted despite the dying daylight. They had released their horse and proceeded on foot for the last mile, slipping stealthily among the hills to escape detection.

"I can't see anything." Joss squinted at the shimmer that resembled a mirage brought on by rising heat waves.

"It's a simple cloaking device, fairly unsophisticated--but then again, good enough for this world's level of technological development." The Doctor fumbled in his pockets. "Obviously, Magus has not been expecting anyone with any knowledge of psi wave patterns to come dropping by. Lucky for us." He triumphantly produced a slim silver wand.

"And that is?"

"My sonic screwdriver. A time lord's best friend!" He depressed a button, and the wand produced a high-pitched, nearly super-sonic whine. To Joss' amazement, the shimmer dissolved, revealing a large, three-story complex sprawled across a depression in the hills.

"Holy Ker-fuck, Batman, that thing's amazing!"

"Language," rebuked the Doctor absently as they hurried toward the huge wooden door that marked the entrance.

"How come you scold me, but you let Shun'u get away with--?"

"Shhh!" cautioned the Doctor as they crept into the huge entry hall.

Joss stared up at the high vaulted ceiling supported by grey stone arches, the marble floor nearly as large as a soccer field. "This place doesn't look very ShiJin to me. Looks more psuedo-Imperial Russian, mixed in with a little Celtic castle and a touch of sci-fi fantasy."

"Yes, it's very familiar," muttered the Doctor, holding up the sonic screwdriver as he peered down the multiple corridors that led off the entrance hall. "It's hard to get a reading in here; everything seems to be heavily shielded." He moved toward a smaller corridor to the right that led deep into the back of the complex. 

Suddenly his head snapped up. "People are coming!"

They looked around frantically for a place to hide, but the hall was wide open and free of concealing ornamentation. "Damn this minimalist style!" cursed the Doctor. 

The tromp of footsteps came closer, and the Doctor spotted movement coming around a curve in the largest corridor. "Go!" he hissed, shoving Joss toward the small, dim corridor. "I'll draw them off while you keep searching for Houjun."

"But Doctor," Joss protested.

"Go!" he hissed once more, then shot out, running across the wide open hall towards the farthest corridor on the left. Joss heard young voices raised up in a shout of surprise, followed by the sound of many pairs of running feet. She didn't have a choice; she turned and ran up into the dimness of the small corridor, holding Houjun's ash staff across one shoulder.

The Doctor led his young pursuers on a merry chase, ducking in and out of side hallways, resting briefly in unlocked rooms before darting out to try to find his way back to Joss. On his last foray back into the entrance hall, he slipped on the marble floor and was grasped by a strong hand and frog-marched to an ornate door at the end of the main corridor.

The student knocked at the door and entered, giving a polite half-bow to the dark figure behind the massive desk. "Magus-sensei, we have captured an intruder in the entrance hall of the _gakkou._"

The tall man rose up from behind his desk and walked over to stare down into the Doctor's innocent blue eyes. "Hello," greeted the Doctor politely. "I'm from the Konan Board of Higher Education, and I've been conducting a surprise inspection of your school."

"As tiresomely facetious as ever," rumbled the deep, melodious voice. "I've been expecting you…Doctor."

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Glossary of Japanese terms

Onii-chan - Elder Brother (familiar, affectionate)

-dono - a suffix denoting great respect, analogous to 'my lord' or 'my lady'

senpai - upperclassman

kouhai - underclassman

****

**Author's notes: (12-14-03)** So…(sigh) the first big drop into the abyss. If you're relieved that it's over, don't be--because it isn't. We haven't even gotten to the "horror" aspect yet. Oh, and a quick note to Jack on Joss' future status as a "permanent" companion to the Doctor: for that to happen, both she and the Doctor would have to survive this adventure,and I'm not giving out any guarantees. Oooh!

And yes, I did digress a little in the first part, bringing in ReiRei from Genrou Den (many thanks to Tasuki no Miko for her online translation of Genrou Den), but I couldn't help it: I love ReiRei. For Jack and Drox, who are not familiar with Fushigi Yuugi, ReiRei was a temporary companion for sixteen-year-old Shun'u, and she was definitely a match for him in all ways!

There was also the brief cameo for Midori-sama, the priestess from the exorcism. It may have seemed unnecessary to some, but I love to tie up as many loose ends as I can, and I often wondered how she felt when she heard that the young magician had drowned himself.

Ack, I've been so caught up in this chapter that I almost forgot to credit the people who answered the "quiz" questions from the last chapter! Congratulations to Fire Pendant for getting the "Lord of the Rings" quote: it was the high elf named Gildor, not Haldor, but you came close enough...a Joss plushie for you! Doctor plushies go out to Kryssa and J. Liha, who both nailed the Doctor's trick on the yo-yo as "Rock the Baby," and a miniature Doctor pin for Tenshi, who might be right as well; I am regrettably not familiar with ALL of the yo-yo tricks out there. And don't you wish that Joss plushies and Doctor plushies REALLY existed? 

Now for some news: my life has just taken a not-unexpected curve, and the stuff is hitting the fan for me big time this week as my research lab is moved at last. In spite of the inevitable chaos at work, not to mention that "little" holiday around the corner, I've set myself a near-impossible goal. I want to post the climactic Chapter 17 of "Bridge" on 1-7-2004, the two-year anniversary of the debut of "White Stones in the Moonlight."

Why? Well, it's because there's a particular author I want to best, someone whose previous works will diminish when compared to the best chapter I have written to date, and that author is:

Roku Kyu.

No, don't be afraid, I haven't developed raging multiple-personality disorder...yet. :P

Seriously, I've always tried to set goals for myself that have nothing to do with review numbers. I've felt that I should try to get better, more polished and exciting with every chapter in every story I write. There are times when I doubt myself, times when I feel that I've hit a "plateau"--but rarely, only once in a very, _very_ long while do I get that feeling that I would describe as "slam-dunk!" The last two times were in "White Stones": the oni-destruction chapter, and of course, the last full chapter with the whole ensemble and the mystical comet.

I have that same feeling with Chapter 17 of Bridge. I feel that this is the climax that the whole fic is building up to, and now I have to deliver on my promise. - -;; As I said before, I'm going to TRY to get it posted on 1-7-04, but I don't know if I can kick out two chapters in three weeks, perhaps the busiest three weeks of my entire year. At any rate, I'll give it my best effort.

Now, since I mentioned reviews earlier: I would like to send my most heartfelt thanks to the reviewers of this, my most difficult-to-read fic to date. You have been so supportive, taking lots of time out of your personal lives to give me perhaps the longest and most comprehensive reviews that any fanfic author has been privileged to receive. I am abjectly and completely grateful, and I would like you to know that I cherish every last word, even the critical ones!

So, to my wonderful, thoughtful readers and reviewers, I'd like to wish you a very blessed holiday season. I know that it's a belated wish for Eid and Hannukah, but hopefully I'm on time for Christmas, Kwanza, Winter Solstice, and any other celebration I've forgotten to mention!

Love to you all,

Roku 


	16. The realm of nightmare

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). The alien race known as the Daleks are the property of the estate of Terry Nation. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story, as well as the plotline, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical Selection: "Pax Deorum" by Enya from her CD "The Memory of Trees" copyright 1995, Warner Records UK.

Acknowledgement: I would like to warmly thank Ryuen for her very skilled beta-reading of this chapter; I couldn't have pulled if off without ya, girlfriend!

**Important Warning: **This chapter is rated "M" - restricted from those under age 17 - for strong adult content. Readers are cautioned that this chapter contains horror, violence, abuse, and adult sexual situations. Younger and sensitive readers are advised to avoid this chapter.

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Chapter 16. The Realm of Nightmare

He tried to focus past the pain, to find a place where he could lift his mind past its subjection to physical sensation. Blinking back the tears in his real eye, he gazed around in the dim lamplight, finally detecting subtle movement on the opposite wall. A spider, not very large, extended its forelegs with hesitant grace as it moved slowly over the stonework. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to _be_ that spider, clinging tenaciously to the rough stonework, defying gravity…

White-hot searing pain raced like liquid fire along his nerves to explode in his head, blossoming into agonizing red fireworks. He gasped, unable to force it back, sucking in air desperately so as to keep from expelling it in a mindless scream. But it went on and _on,_ until he knew nothing--not his identity or purpose, nothing but the need to release this agony. Yet something in him still fought for control, so instead of howling in agony, he released his pent-up breath in a hiss that was as much defiance as it was capitulation.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Gone as if it had never been, the only evidence of its presence in the weakness of his tremblinging limbs and the cold sweat that rolled down his face.

"So you see, Maboroshi, it's as vital to know when to stop as how much to apply. You can't have the subject escaping into unconsciousness, after all." Kurayami's tone was a mockery of Magus' serious lecturing voice. She leaned in and smiled into Houjun's face. "It's essential that the subject understands that the pain will come again and _again_, and that for him, there is no escape."

Houjun summoned what little moisture he had in his mouth and spat at her. Kurayami smiled as she wiped the spittle from her robe, lifting the fine, diamond-edged blade so that it glittered in the dim lamplight. "It's always more amusing to have a lively subject such as this one," she went on. She ran a finger along the blood-coated edge of the blade until her finger was covered with the crimson fluid, then placed her finger in her mouth and sucked at the blood as if it were an Imperial delicacy. "And the taste of helpless defiance…is _intoxicating!"_ She grinned, exposing her now bloody teeth.

Maboroshi shifted uncomfortably. "Kurayami-dono, you aren't going to…to…"

"To what, Maboroshi-kun?"

"Well…you said that I could have him! And he's no use to me dead!"

Kurayami sighed. "Ah, the young: so impatient and so greedy. Do you even know what you are asking for?" 

She approached Houjun's shackled form, waving her tiny diamond blade near his face. Small spreading stains of blood on his clothes showed where she had plied her knife in the preceding hours. "Do you think that one as subtle as our Shouryuu is showing you his true features even now?" She smiled as Houjun's eyes widened. "Ah, yes, my dear subject--you have used deft and powerful means, but I can detect the presence of ancient magic in the mask that you now wear." She raised her blade and cut into his face at his forehead.

"Wait!" cried Maboroshi, as Houjun closed his mystical eyes in pain.

"Patience," breathed Kurayami as she dragged the scalpel edge all along the perimeter of Houjun's face, pausing near his throat but continuing the cut all the way back to his forehead, as if she were peeling an apple. She caught the edge of the flap of skin and pulled it off in one swift move, as Maboroshi cried out in involuntary horror. 

Kurayami dropped the blank piece of skin before Maboroshi in contempt. "Stop whining, dear student; just look."

Maboroshi raised his eyes fearfully, expecting to see some raw, red visage of horror, but instead finding only the same features as before--the same except for the livid scar that slashed across Houjun's left eye, the pale skin crossed with tiny rivulets of blood from where Kurayami had cut a little too deeply into his real face. Maboroshi stood shocked--then began cackling nervously, approaching Houjun. He reached up a dirty finger to trace the line of the scar from Houjun's eyebrow to the bridge of his nose, cackling louder as Houjun turned his face away in disgust.

"Well, aren't you the ugly one, Mister Shouryuu-_senpai!_ Always lording it over the rest of us, all the time hiding behind a mask, hiding the deformed _freak_ you really are! What a joke!" Maboroshi cackled until he nearly choked, spittle flying from his mouth.

Houjun stood stiffly in his chains, his expression blank, refusing to respond to Maboroshi's taunts. Kurayami smiled at his arrogant stance. She glided up to him and pulled his head back by his silvery-blue ponytail, the hair-color spell having shattered hours before under the stress of torture.

"So have you changed your mind about wanting him, Maboroshi-kun?"

Maboroshi wiped at his mouth with the back of one hand, his breaths growing heavier. "No!" he panted. "It's a strange thing, but now I want him even more! I want to feel that scar beneath my fingers as I hold him pinned beneath me, I want to feel him writhe in pain as I take my pleasure of him--"

"Most people go through their entire lives and never get what they want." Maboroshi startled at the calm, contemptuous voice, the first words that Houjun had uttered in several hours.

Kurayami's narrow eyes creased in delight. "Still fighting, then," she cooed into his ear, yanking back on his ponytail as she drew her blade lightly across his throat, leaving a thin line of blood. "And poor Maboroshi-kun remains empty-handed."

The youth stamped his foot petulantly. "You promised me! You promised that I could have him!"

She flashed a contemptuous glance in her student's direction. "Have you learned nothing in all these weeks, Maboroshi-kun? What have I taught you about getting what you want?"

Maboroshi unconsciously straightened, as if reciting a lesson in class. "If you can't succeed by using direct methods…"

"Then use indirect methods," finished Kurayami. "Run and fetch your toy, Maboroshi; I think Shouryuu is ready to play."

Maboroshi cackled and ran off. Kurayami turned back to her captive. "Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?" she purred with false solicitude.

"Yes. Now that the children have left, you can answer a few questions."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you love to boast, and I am your captive audience."

Kurayami shrieked with laughter. "Shouryuu, you are an endless source of amusement! I will be so sorry when the time comes to kill you!"

Houjun gave an abbreviated shrug in his chains. "So you have nothing to lose by talking to me."

"Ah, such courage," Kurayami smirked. "Such fun! Very well, I shall answer your questions--and since we're dispensing with our masks…" 

She reached up and pulled off her black mask. Her features were small and regular, almost what one would call beautiful--except for the dead white pallor of her skin and her narrow slitted eyes, giving her the appearance of a reptile that lived beneath the earth: secret, sunless…venomous.

That venomous smile was turned back on Houjun. "Ask away, Shouryuu-san."

"All this," he indicated his chains with his chin. "You've gone to a great deal of trouble merely for Maboroshi's pleasure."

"I've already told you, Shouryuu; the pleasure is all mine." Her teeth gleamed in the darkness.

"Still--your apprenticeship to Magus, the entire exorcism debacle--am I to believe that you expended all that effort merely for my sake?"

A raspy laugh. "Yes…and no! But then again, I suppose that you want a clear answer. Let's just say that my original purpose had to do with Magus, but I was pleasantly diverted when I met you. I hadn't expected that deluded fool to have found a _real_ magician, one whose abilities rival my own."

"You flatter me," murmured Houjun politely. Kurayami dipped her head in mocking acknowledgement of the compliment as Houjun went on. "But why?"

"Let's just say Magus has precipitated some events that have caused concern in…certain circles. It was my task to stop him, while at the same time learning as much about his startling abilities as I could. It wasn't until I discovered your existence that I realized how easy it was to achieve both goals. I didn't need to kill Magus to ruin his plans; I merely needed to render you useless to him."

"But the exorcism achieved all that, and yet you brought me back here. Risky, wasn't it?"

The pointed teeth gleamed once more. "I enjoy risk; it lightens the tedium of my long existence. Not to mention that you can't hope to convince me that you were leaving here forever. I suspected that you were preparing for the great moral confrontation with us both." She laughed again. "Don't look so startled! I didn't need to spy upon your plans or read your ki; you humans are so predictable!"

"You humans?"

"Good for you, Shouryuu," Kurayami purred. "Not much escapes your notice. But you must ponder on my slip of the tongue without my help, for Maboroshi has returned for the games."

Maboroshi had returned, breathless from his rapid run and holding something in a pocket of his robe. He stopped short at the sight of Kurayami's unmasked features.

She laughed once again. "Don't drop your toy, Maboroshi, for I won't get you another one." Her eyes flashed with amusement. "Why not join Shouryuu and me in our…disrobing? Masks are not required at this intimate gathering."

Maboroshi pulled at his mask, excited by Kurayami's words. Once his face was revealed, Houjun was a little startled to see that he was a handsome youth with fine, chiseled features, looking like a slightly older version of Kishuku. But his large eyes were green, not grey, and they shone with nervous instability. That, and his continuous breathless cackle, ruined the effect of his natural beauty.

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, showing something to Kurayami. Houjun strained to see what it was, but the restraint of his bonds and the dimness of the lighting only permitted him to make out something small that gleamed within a slightly larger receptacle.

"Perfect," approved Kurayami. She picked up a large incense burner, filling it with strange herbs and approaching Houjun. She smiled up into his eyes and traced a pointed finger along his face in mockery of a lover's caress. "It's time," she murmured.

"For what?" He turned his face away from her caress.

"Time to break you."

Houjun gazed up into the darkness at the ceiling, his voice soft, almost dreamy. "You may kill me, but it will take more than you have to break me."

Kurayami smiled her reptilian smile as she lit the incense burner, holding it so that its smoke drifted into Houjun's face. "There is always some way to break anyone, Shouryuu." She gestured Maboroshi to move forward.

He fought the dizziness brought on by the hallucinogenic herbs. However, there was a new effect, a drifting darkness that seemed to be issuing from the gleaming object that Maboroshi held high in the palm of his hand. Houjun struggled to resist but felt himself falling helplessly into the encroaching darkness. The last thing he heard was Kurayami's voice, raspy with amusement, sounding as if she spoke from a great distance.

"You only have to dig deep enough."

****

The Doctor stood among stone walls decorated with rich tapestries, his feet sinking into the thick oriental carpet, and struggled to keep his nonplussed state of mind from showing on his face. Magus waved him politely to the brocaded seat before his intricately carved mahogany desk and dismissed the student who had captured him, murmuring reassurances that he had been expecting the stranger. Moving around to his own high-backed seat, he rested his chin on steepled fingers and contemplated the Doctor, the glittering eyes behind the mask fixed unwaveringly on his guest.

The Doctor shifted and cleared his throat. "Lovely place you have here." He reached forward and gently touched an oscillating structure of crystal and gold. "Very nice astral chronometer. No time lord should be without one."

Teeth gleamed beneath the black mask. "Showing your hand so soon, Doctor? You're supposed to play stupid for at least a few rounds."

The Doctor shrugged, leaning nonchalantly back in his chair. "Seems pointless under the circumstances. After all, you seem to know me," his tone sharpened, "although I'm quite certain that we've never met before."

"We haven't. Although one needn't know you personally to know _of_ you."

"Strange. I feel certain that most records of my existence have been expunged from the official archives of Gallifrey."

"Ah, yes--but there is much to be found in the, er, _unofficial_ archives, especially if one is inclined to dig deeper than the brief biography given for one of the Ex-Presidents."

The Doctor placed his hands up to his temples. "Oh, dear Rassilon, don't tell me--not another Gallifreyan fanboy!"

Magus laughed out loud, a rich, deep laugh filled with genuine amusement. "No, Doctor, never fear! I haven't reconfigured my TARDIS to look like an old Type Forty with the shell of an obscure police box from ancient Earth!" His smile changed, his eyes darkening in memory. "However, there was a time when that appellation might have suited me very well. But that time is long past, and I no longer hold you in such high esteem."

"Somehow, that statement doesn't provoke the sense of relief it ought. Of course, I believe that was your intention."

Magus' teeth gleamed once again. "It's oddly refreshing to joust with you in person, Doctor; this new regeneration seems much more upfront than the last one." He held his hand out to his side, indicating a much shorter height. "That one was much more the slippery manipulator. But he must not have been quite as invincible as he seemed, for…here you are."

"Yes, here I am. No one is invincible, and one may die for no particular reason as easily as for a noble cause. However," the Doctor's eyes narrowed keenly, "these revelations do tell me something. In my last incarnation, I was known to perform certain deeds that occasionally inspired feelings of resentment."

"Feelings of resentment," Magus repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, that's one way of putting it." He focused on the Doctor once more. "However, whether you believe me or not, my issues with you had very little to do with my mission here--until you showed up in person to throw a wrench into my plans. It's that sort of strange coincidence that makes one almost believe in Fate. Almost."

"So, this mission…"

"No need for such delicacy, Doctor; I know the script. You ask seemingly feckless questions and fool me into revealing my purpose, you then escape my custody and spend much time running up and down dark corridors, you finish by destroying my carefully conceived plans, lecturing me as I am 'hoist by my own petard,' and finally you ride off into the sunset with your companions after a nice, hot cup of tea." 

"You make it sound so dreary and predictable," complained the Doctor. "And yet I find it amusing."

"Amusing." Magus' voice had suddenly turned cold. "Yes, you do, don't you? You live for your own amusement, never considering the consequences of your actions, never _once_--!" He stopped, suddenly aware of the Doctor's sharp, keen gaze. He snorted in disbelief. "You _are_ good, I'll grant you that. Here I am, perfectly aware of all your tricks and stratagems, and still you manage to maneuver me into revealing more than I intended." He rose from his desk and stalked around to glare down at the Doctor. "Since I know all the moves of the game, let's bypass the tedious opening gambits and proceed directly to the goal. You wish to know my purpose, I wish to shake you out of your calm sense of superiority, and we both want to get to the hard bargaining that is the obvious point of your presence in my domain. So get up, Doctor, we're going on a tour."

The Doctor rose gracefully out of the depths of the brocaded chair, stretched, and fixed his grim guide with the delighted smile of a child promised a trip to the sweetshop. "You know," he confided to Magus, "there's something oddly enjoyable about cutting to the chase."

Magus sighed. "To add to your enjoyment, Doctor, I can promise you a multitude of corridors to traverse on our way."

****

The Doctor stared down into the huge vaulted chamber from the entryway set high in the wall. It had been a fair jaunt to this hidden place, accessible only through the locked and dusty staircase winding through the farthest tower in the school. The Doctor judged that most of the chamber below had been carved out of the bones of the hill situated nearest to the compound. At Magus' nod, he began to descend the floating staircase, wincing at the heavy boom of the solid alloy door as it closed firmly behind them.

He strolled through the complex array of crystal cones suspended high above a wide empty space, tracing their fine silver-optic lines to a fantastical arrangement of cut crystalline gems, their glittering points all aimed carefully at a raised dais. Standing on the dais was a crossed structure with various silken threads trailing outward. The Doctor reached up a hand to touch the silk-covered iron resin loops suspended from each end of the cross tie and the single loop with branching electrodes that rested near the top of the structure. His eyes darkened as he correctly deduced their function: they were restraints; silk-lined, comfortable, but near-impossible to break.

He fought down his anger, assuming a deceptively mild tone as he turned to face Magus' obsidian mask. "So…what's it all for?"

Magus sighed, gently wiping away a thin layer of dust from a complex glass instrument that stood a short distance from the dais. "I thought we had agreed that it was a waste of time for you to play the fool, Doctor."

"I'm not playing the fool. I can see that you have a system set up to collect and concentrate some energy source, and judging from the opposing arrangement of the stereoisomers of metahydrite crystals, I deduce that it is some form of psychic wave energy. But why do you funnel the collection lines to this one area," he indicated the dais, "and why," the Doctor's voice grew very cold, "why do you require restraints fixed in an arrangement suitable for imprisoning a human?"

Magus smiled grimly as he adjusted a solar energy sink. "'Imprison' is such a harsh word, Doctor. I prefer the term 'support.'"

"You didn't answer my question."

"True, and we had agreed to dispense with pointless jousting, hadn't we? Very well, Doctor, listen carefully. You are correct: this arrangement permits me to harness and focus the psychic energies of the students of my school, who will stand here," he indicated the open space beneath the crystal cones, "and send those energies to be tightly concentrated by my psychic prism into a beam of dimension-crossing force."

"I'm going to set aside the question of your 'psychic prism' for now to ask once again: For what purpose?"

"To send a signal."

The Doctor snorted in contempt. "You don't need this complex arrangement to send a signal! Even if you were stranded, the relatively simple technology of your cloaking device could be converted to send a signal across the galaxy."

"You're not listening, Doctor. I had mentioned the necessity of crossing dimensions."

The Doctor felt a sudden chill at the grim purpose in Magus' voice. "What signal were you planning to send?"

"I think the question you want to ask is to whom am I sending it? The answer to both questions is this: my intention is to send an invitation, a psychic lure if you will, to draw a certain species to this world. They will believe that they have found a rich concentration of psychic energy, a veritable feast for them--but of course, all that they will find is the springing of my trap."

"What species…and _why?"_

"You have encountered them in your recent past, Doctor; your previous incarnation, if I am correct. They are not well known in this dimension, which is a blessing to sentient life across this galaxy, but they are a terror and a scourge to the few remaining survivors in their own realm. They are creatures of nightmare and death, whom you have referred to simply as 'The Swarm.'"

The Doctor went dead white. "You're _insane!_ Why in the name of all reason would you want to bring such a deadly race _here_, to this dimension? When they accidentally crossed over into one of the outpost worlds of this galaxy, it took everything I had to divert them and trick them back into their home dimension."

Magus stared at the Doctor, his glittering gaze even colder than usual, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "Ah, yes, Doctor," he hissed. "I know all about that little_ adventure_ of yours. It took me some time to gather the facts, but once I did, I found them to be very enlightening."

"If so, then you must know how close this galaxy came to utter disaster! Imagine the carnage they would have wrought among every populated world, absorbing those with psychic abilities and decimating the rest!" 

"I don't need my imagination, Doctor." Magus' voice had dropped to an icy whisper. "I don't need to _project_ or _deduce_ to understand the kind of destruction this psychic parasite can wreak. Pure, distilled evil: if ever there was a species that deserved annihilation, this is the one!"

The Doctor scowled. "True, they pose a genuine threat to most intelligent species, but they also possess sentience, although they are subject to the "group mind" in colony form. It's a type of intelligence that we cannot relate easily to, but does that give you the right to decide upon their eradication?"

"Right?" Magus laughed bitterly. "Oh yes, I have the right, Doctor--the same right that you had to pass similar judgment on the Daleks!"

The Doctor flushed. "I didn't pull the Daleks out of their own dimension to fall into one of my traps. I did everything in my power to stop them without annihilating them, until--"

"Until one day, you had had enough," finished Magus. "I can relate to that mindset, Doctor. I'm no different than you in having a certain breaking point."

"This isn't about personal breaking points. You must stop this insanity, Magus; regardless of what plan you may have conceived, the terrible risk of bringing the Swarm into this dimension outweighs any _possible_ benefit. Have you any idea of the horrifying consequences should you fail? The very fabric of space-time itself could be damaged!"

"I won't fail, Doctor; at least, not if you cease your incessant meddling in my affairs. Not to mention that you're being overly dramatic in your dire predictions. In the worst case, even if I did fail, this place is just a tiny pocket dimension off the Greater Galaxy. That is why I chose it for my trap; the consequences to its loss would be negligible."

"You really don't know, do you?" The Doctor's voice trembled with disbelief. "You have no idea of how close to the edge you propose to bring us! You utter fool, don't you realize what is just one slight shift in dimensional geography away? Didn't the human population of this world clue you in? _Earth_ is just on the other side of this world, separated by only a thin dimensional veil!"

"Earth?" Now it was Magus' turn to be shocked. "The proscribed planet?"

"Yes, the proscribed planet, the delicate nexus of most of galactic history! If the High Council happens to get wind of your plans, they would wipe out the entire ShiJinTenChiSho as a precautionary measure, not to mention unweaving your genetic code from the Loom. Even your ancestors would cease to exist."

Magus straightened under the force of the Doctor's wrath. "Do you think that it matters to me, my own existence? If it did, would I have chosen this path, this mission to destroy the most evil race the universe has ever known? You underestimate me, Doctor. In any case, the wheels are already in motion; pulses of psychic energy have already been sent into the home dimension of the Swarm. All that you have done is let me know that the stakes are higher than I originally thought. The possibility of failure cannot be allowed."

The Doctor exploded. "You fool! You blind, ignorant, egomaniacal _fool!_ Do you have any idea of what you've _done?"_

"You know," Magus remarked calmly, "those insults might sting coming from anyone else, but considering the source, they only inspire irony. Are you jealous, Doctor? Am I intruding into your territory? Have my actions threatened your heretofore unchallenged supremacy as the Great Galactic Manipulator?"

The Doctor tore at his hair in frustration. "Threatened? Of _course_ I'm threatened--I and every other sentient being in this corner of the galaxy!" He spun on his heels and strode up to Magus, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Do you imagine that you're capable of manipulating galactic history?! You're nothing but a child: a willful, reckless child playing with time-shattering events as if they were spillikins! Inexperienced, rash, myopic; you don't even have the wits to realize your incalculable blunders!"

Magus' anger was finally aroused. His eyes flashed behind the black mask. "Blunders, are they? The only blunders that have occurred are your disastrous forays in meddling! You couldn't leave well enough alone, you _had_ to interfere with my ultimate weapon!"

"I assume that you are referring to Ri Houjun." Now the Doctor's voice held an icy chill. "It's a funny thing, but I see him as a sensitive young man as opposed to a weapon of mass destruction."

Magus met his accusing gaze without flinching. "Shouryuu's abilities place him far above any ordinary young man. Talents such as his confer great responsibility, responsibility beyond all personal considerations."

"Oh yes?" The Doctor's tone was quietly dangerous. "What are you trying to say? What are the odds of his survival upon being deployed as 'the ultimate weapon?'"

"Very small, almost nonexistent." Magus' tones were matter-of-fact. "In the war against evil, there are always necessary sacrifices." 

"Ne-ces-sar-y sac-ri-fi-ces," the Doctor hissed through gritted teeth. "How you narcissistic power-wielders _love_ to use that phrase! I don't see you offering yourself up as a 'necessary sacrifice,' however!"

"I would if I could, Doctor." Magus dropped his defenses, speaking honestly. "I've tried to focus the power myself, believe me. But unfortunately, the distillation of the psychic wave energies seems to require the presence of the human nucleic acid/amino acid interface…and I can't claim to possess that."

"'He who fights with monsters…'" whispered the Doctor. "How does it feel to become that which you loathe, Magus? How does your planned destruction of Houjun's life compare with the _modus operandi_ of your enemy?"

Magus' only show of emotion was a slight tightening of his jaw. "The difference lies in free will, Doctor. Ri Houjun agreed to give his life in the battle against evil when he first joined up with me. I cautioned him that it had to be a choice from the heart."

"What if he's changed his mind? What if he's found something worth living for?"

"Then he will have to make his choice against the fate of millions. Bring him here, Doctor, and let him speak for himself."

The Doctor grew very pale. "What do you mean? I came here to get him back from you! Your confederates kidnapped him three days ago."

Magus stiffened in shock. "That can't be true; I know nothing of his presence here! They must have blocked his ki."

The Doctor let out a roar of frustration. "How can you be so bloody _incompetent?_ By all the gods of this universe and the next, how can you not know what your own accomplices are up to? Rassilon only knows what they have been doing to him!" He leaped at Magus and grabbed his arm. "You had better have some idea as to where they have hidden him, and you had better be ready to _run!_"

****

He awoke to the dull thunder of rushing water. Pushing to his feet, he shivered in the light rain as he looked around in disbelief. He was standing on a knoll beneath a low ceiling of churning grey clouds, skeletal branches of trees clawing at the sky while black leaves swirled in tiny demonic dances. Gusts of chill, damp wind whipped his hair into his face, making his left eye ache vaguely with some forgotten pain.

All around the knoll, muddy grey water flowed sluggishly past clods of swollen earth on its way back to its source: the river that roared distantly behind him like a ravening beast returning reluctantly to its lair. He was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency and dread, and he plunged off the knoll, slogging through the receding flood toward dark shapes that rose in the distance. He felt the mud sucking greedily at his feet, as if the ground itself wanted to swallow him into its murky yaw. Yet he fought on, time passing in some meaningless, measureless way until he found himself standing before the rain-blackened houses of his hometown.

The reek of the flood filled his nostrils, the smell of dead fish and vegetation mixed with the stench of cesspits. He pushed open doors as he stumbled through the town, calling the names of families he remembered but receiving no answer. The streets twisted and turned in strange mazes until he was unsure of which direction he was facing. Yet something drove him to keep going, keep seeking…

He stopped short at the end of one street as the reek in the air grew and changed into the sickly sweet stench of decaying flesh, a smell that wrenched at his gut, making him retch. There before him was a mound of dark shapes, the occasional splayed hand or crooked leg revealing the bodies that made up this grim offering to the supremacy of nature over frail human flesh. He backed hastily away, turning to run down another unfamiliar twisting street in his endless, urgent search.

That path also led to another pile of bodies, the reeking miasma of rotting flesh almost palpable in the twisting mists in the air. He backed away, gagging, growing frantic with the need to find some way through to his destination. He plunged back into the maze of streets, straining to see through the rising mists, straining to find his way…back home.

Yet another mound of bodies waited at the end of this street. He paused to look behind, trying to choose a street that he hadn't yet walked. At that moment, the wind shifted, its high-pitched whistle changing to a low, throbbing moan, like the mournful call of an ancient horn. He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his glance back up the street.

Something in the mound of bodies was shifting, moving, jerkily extending a swollen, greyish limb as it fought to get free. Terror seized him as he realized that whatever it was, it wasn't alive. He turned and fled, frantically choosing another street, running toward the grey light at the end…only to encounter another heaving pile of decaying bodies, the mound pulsing with the mindless efforts of whatever obscenity struggled to erupt from its prison of flesh. He choked back a scream and ran--

And ran and _ran,_ dodging dark shambling shapes in the distance, gasping for air while gagging on the stench, searching, _searching_…

There it was, appearing suddenly out of the white mists: the familiar lines of his own front door. He ran up onto his veranda and paused, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply in relief…until he heard a slight creak. The door was opening from the inside, inching away from him in small increments as a stream of water began flowing out over his sandals. The murky stream flowed faster, carrying small shapes to be stranded wriggling on the wooden slats of the veranda; dark fingerlike shapes of leeches contrasted by the pale, swollen bodies of maggots, and all the while the rising, nauseating stench flowed out as thickly as the water.

Suddenly he _knew_ that he could not bear to see whatever was pulling open the door of his house. He yearned to scream and run away, but he was frozen in place, eyes wide, waiting with hopeless horror mixed with grief, choking on the foul effluvium as the door swung ever wider…

"Houjun!" The shout echoed in the distance, snapping him out of his terror-stricken immobility. "Houjun, over here!" Houjun wrenched his gaze away from the door and stumbled off the veranda. At the end of the street, a familiar figure waved emphatically, summoning him to his side. "Houjun, _hurry!"_

_"_Hikou!" He ran towards his best friend, keeping his eyes fixed on the beloved figure, shutting his ears to the rattling, ghostly echo of his name whispered from something that stood behind him in the doorway. As he dashed up to Hikou, his friend tossed him one of two long poles in his grasp. Houjun caught it, gasping in relief. "Thank the gods, Hikou; I thought that there was no one left alive in town!"

"There won't be, if we don't get our asses out of here! Damn, can you move any slower, _ahou?_" Hikou flashed a cocky grin, his sparkling eyes signaling his excitement at their predicament. Houjun couldn't help grinning back at him; no matter what trouble they became embroiled in, Hikou always turned it into a marvelous adventure.

Houjun's grin faltered as a thought struck him. "Hikou--what about my mother and Kouran?"

"Safe across the river. Good thing they're smarter than you, baka--Get _down!_"

Houjun dropped obediently as Hikou swung his pole over his head, hitting something with a solid, squelching thunk. Houjun looked back in horror at the corpse that lay just behind him, broken almost in half by Hikou's powerful blow. He barely had time to take in the sight of the rotting, water-swollen flesh before Hikou grabbed his shoulder. "Come _ON!"_

All around them, shambling greyish shapes with empty eyes reached out to grasp jerkily at the two young men. Hikou fought like a demon, whirling and jabbing with his jou stick, whacking off arms and heads while shouting in triumph. Houjun was caught up in his friend's high spirits, spinning and striking dead flesh with his jou, kicking out without pausing to consider the horrors they were fighting. He followed Hikou as they fought past one group of reanimated corpses after another, making their way inexorably to the outskirts of the accursed town.

The roar of the river grew loud in their ears as they put a safe distance between themselves and the endless, palsied procession of corpses stumbling through the mud. Hikou dropped his jou and grabbed Houjun's arm, pulling him towards the swollen river. "Come on! We have to get to the other side!"

Houjun stared in disbelief at the thundering rapids. "You're insane! We'll be swept away before we get even halfway across--there has to be another way!"

"There's no time!" shouted Hikou, his glittering eyes and circlet reflecting the lightning that had begun to cross the sky in long, jagged streaks. "They'll kill us if we stay!" His hand tightened on Houjun's forearm as he tried to drag him forward.

Houjun pulled back. "It's _suicide_ to go in there!" he shouted above the rising howl of the wind.

"It's suicide to wait! Look!"

Houjun turned back to see dark shapes staggering towards them through the rain. He felt Hikou's grasp tighten, his fingers sharp against his arm as they pulled at him. He put his hand on Hikou's to loosen his grip--and felt the cold hardness of bare bones in his grasp. His eyes flashed up to Hikou's face, only to see the empty eye sockets and fixed grin of a skull staring back at him beneath the lank, dripping hair of his friend.

Houjun screamed as the skeleton wearing Hikou's circlet pulled him into the water. "Come on, Houjun!" the thing laughed. "Into the river with me! We'll be together; best friends together forever!"

"No!" shrieked Houjun, struggling wildly as the skeleton dragged him deeper into the churning waters. He fell to his knees under the force of the water, almost losing his grip on his jou stick. 

His jou stick. He raised the stick in the air and slashed down on the skeletal arm, screaming his horror with every blow.

"Stop it!" howled the thing that had been Hikou as its bones shattered under the impact of the jou. "Don't let me go, Houjun! Don't let the river take me!"

He sobbed but continued to smash the bony arm dragging at him until at last it broke apart. The thing shrieked as it was dragged under, disappearing into the murky depths. Houjun pulled himself up onto the muddy bank and crawled back from the river. He curled up into a wet, miserable huddle, burying his face in his knees and sobbing, his left eye aching as he wept for all he had lost once again.

He kept his face buried, ignoring the passage of time as he cried, ignoring the dying of the wind and the rain and the feeble sunlight as it reached out weak rays to hesitantly touch the devastated landscape. However, he couldn't ignore the sweet scent that wafted to him on the suddenly gentle breeze: the scent of sun-warmed fields of wildflowers, the scent that he would forever associate with only one woman.

He lifted his face from his huddle and tried to focus his tear-blurred vision on the slight figure that cast a shadow across him.

_"Kouran?"_

****

Kouran stooped before Houjun, her beautiful hazel eyes filling with sympathetic tears. "Houjun," she murmured, brushing his cheek with her soft fingers, "what happened to you?"

His expression crumpled. "I killed him," he choked. "I killed Hikou! I didn't want to, but--"

"It's all right," Kouran said soothingly. "I know…I understand. The important thing is that you're safe, and that we're together."

"But I thought you loved him!"

Kouran looked confused. "Aren't we betrothed to one another?"

"You broke off our betrothal. You said it was because of Hikou." Houjun fought to keep the note of accusation from his voice.

The line between Kouran's brows disappeared. "I didn't mean it," she stammered. "I only said that because…because of the argument we had that day."

Houjun shook his head in confusion. "But we never argued."

"What does it matter?" Kouran's lovely voice held a note of desperation. "Don't you believe that I love you?"

Houjun's heart leapt up in joy; it was like a dream come true, hearing those words from her lips. He closed his eyes momentarily to bask in the warmth of her love once more. His immobility must have alarmed Kouran, however, for she drew close and lay her head against his chest.

"Houjun, don't you love me anymore? Don't you remember?"

"Of course I love you!" He stroked her long sable-brown locks with trembling hands. "I never stopped loving you. I thought it was you who no longer loved me."

She looked up into his face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Then show me that you love me. Come with me, as you did that day…"

"That day in the woods," Houjun finished, his voice soft and passionate. Yet even as desire flared up, something troubled him, so that he held back under the gentle pull of her hand. "Kouran, it's not safe here! The village--the river--"

"The storm is over." Her voice was soft and reassuring. "Can't you see it, Houjun? It's a new world: a world just for us."

He looked up to see that her words were true. The sun shone gently on the reviving landscape. The mud had hardened into solid earth, tiny green shoots thrusting through to spread verdant life across the fields, while the river had retreated out of sight beneath its banks, its former roar fading to a murmur. The trees swayed gently in the light breeze, their new leaves a vibrant green against the blue of the vaulted sky.

And Kouran…Kouran grasped him by the hand as she pulled him towards the woods, her eyes laughing into his, her silken locks escaping from the pins of her hairdo to brush softly against her cheekbones. Passion flared once again in him, lifting him up in the exhilarating flight of his senses, so that he caught her in his arms when they had barely reached the shelter of the overhanging canopy.

Her green-brown eyes darkened with her own passion, and she sought his lips as eagerly as he sought hers, her tongue thrusting strongly into his mouth. Houjun drew back a little in surprise at her aggressiveness.

"Wait," he murmured.

"No!" she protested, melding her body to his seductively. " Take me, Houjun; make me yours forever!" She writhed against him. "I can feel that you want me, so why do you wait?"

Houjun lost himself in the pleasure of the friction of their bodies. "I only want…" he gasped, "I only want to take this a little slower." He caught her face gently between his hands and stared deeply into her beautiful eyes. "I don't want to miss a single moment of this."

He lowered his mouth slowly to hers, brushing her lips with the gentlest of feathery kisses. Her eyes fell closed as he deepened the kiss, gradually touching her tongue with his. She opened eagerly for him, but he held back, teasing her, catching her in the sweet pain of anticipation. She moaned softly but yielded, waiting patiently until he took firm possession of her mouth, asserting his dominion over her and her senses.

They finally had to break apart, and Houjun took advantage of their brief distance to rain soft kisses down her neck and throat, inhaling her delicate, flowery scent. Kouran moaned deep in her throat and pulled his head into her breast.

Houjun pulled back again. "No, don't rush it," he commanded, amusement and passion vying with one another in his tones. "Let yourself feel--everything!"

"I feel it!" she gasped, pulling on the toggle tie at her collar. "Please!" she begged, and he laughed, a rich laugh ringing with triumph, with the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

She growled in frustration at his control of her and yanked her shirt open, exposing her small, perfect breasts, making his laugh die in his throat. "Now!" she commanded, wresting control from him.

He groaned and seized her lips again, pressing his hardness against her and gently running his fingers over her breasts. Yet in the midst of his ecstasy, he was brought up short by a sudden sense of wrongness. A chill breeze blew across the back of his neck, making the tiny hairs stand up. He pulled back from Kouran to look up at the grey clouds that were rapidly gathering overhead. The breeze stiffened, tearing the young leaves from the trees, leaving twisted, blackened branches naked as they swayed in the darkening sky.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Kouran's voice was thick with frustration.

"The clouds--I think the storm's coming back."

"No, it's not," she protested, pulling his mouth down to hers once more.

Houjun tried to lose himself in her but was distracted yet again when a flock of ravens suddenly burst from a nearby stand of trees. They circled overhead, swooping and riding the quickening air currents, cawing in mournful, ominous cries.

"Now what?"

"The birds--the ravens!"

"There are no birds." Kouran's eyes were bright and desperate. "Houjun, I'm beginning to feel that you don't want me!"

"Of course I want you!" Houjun drew her close, trying to reassure her while anxiously scanning the darkening skies.

"Then prove it!" Kouran pushed back from him and pulled his shirt up.

He gasped at the contact of her cold hands with his skin but soon gave into the pleasure of her caresses, slightly roughened by her impatience with him. He rebuked himself briefly for his unflattering distraction…then gasped again as she ran her hands sensuously down his sides, sliding into his trousers and stroking briefly at his hips before moving down and grasping his arousal firmly.

He let out his breath in a whoosh, closing his eyes and forgetting about anything else in the world but her desire for him, a desire that drove him into heights of dizzying pleasure. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer, groaning as her stroking hands drew an involuntary thrust of his hips.

She groaned in response, stoking his passion, exploring his body intimately, excitedly. Houjun buried his face in her hair, fighting the growing ecstasy, trying to find the willpower to stop her before it was too late, when suddenly--

The sense of wrongness crashed over him like a breaking wave. He jerked his face out of her hair, trying to find what it was that was shouting warnings into his subconscious mind. He stared up into a sky thick with roiling clouds and spinning circles of carrion birds. Carrion birds--that's what was assaulting his senses, the sickening, penetrating reek of decay. It crawled into his lungs, gagging him, choking him.

"What's wrong now?" Kouran's voice was muffled against his shoulder, yet he could hear the tears of frustration in her tones. Needing to explain his growing dread to her, he pushed back to look into her eyes--

And screamed. Screamed uncontrollably, screamed without restraint, screamed until he thought his lungs would burst, for what he held in his arms was the bloated corpse of a drowned woman. Her filmy, staring eyes widened as she shouted some query at him, but he couldn't hear her above his screams: screams of horror at the sight of her puffy greyish skin, at the feel of his fingers sinking into her spongy flesh, at the feel of her cold, dead hands grasping at his body, at an arousal gone limp in the face of his terror and revulsion.

He finally had to stop screaming long enough to draw in a sobbing breath, and her words became audible. "What's wrong?" she cried in a sickening, burbling voice, her puffy pale lips splitting from the movement, oozing ichor to run down her chin. She moved her rotting hands up his body, grasping his neck with surprising strength and forcing his head down to hers, pressing those oozing lips to his while he grew dizzy with revulsion at the cold slide of the dripping liquor of decay. He struggled wildly and moaned as he tried to keep his mouth shut against the spongy, swollen tongue that probed his lips, but he couldn't help gagging and retching at the penetrating reek of corruption that filled his nostrils, its syrupy-sweet stench crawling through him until it filled all of his senses. Just when he thought that he couldn't take anymore, he felt something move beneath the dead lips pressed against his, something that wriggled in its struggle to get free from the rotting flesh that confined it--and he shoved her back with surprising force, his screams pealing out one after another as his mind splintered from the horror.

"What's _wrong?"_ Kouran cried again, but she was looking past him, out into the darkness that was encroaching upon them. "What are you doing? Why are you ruining this for me? He was mine to have!"

She grasped at Houjun again, and his screams redoubled at the sight of the maggots erupting from her splitting flesh to land cold and writhing on his own skin. For some reason, he was pinned in place, but he desperately turned his face away from her into the darkness, dimly registering a raspy, mocking laugh that echoed through the raven-choked skies like the Voice of Hell itself. He howled out his agony, grief, and guilt, knowing that it was_his_ fault that Kouran had turned into this nightmare creature, for he had abandoned her to the waters of the flood. He sobbed out a prayer to the gods for the merciful oblivion of madness or death, for any escape from the unbearable horror of this existence.

At that moment, a golden halo of light swam into his tear-blurred sight, the figure standing within the glow becoming clearer as it parted the darkness. The figure of someone he dimly recognized even in his terror-stricken madness, her short hair in wild unruly waves, her features contorted in rage as she glared at Kouran clinging to Houjun.

"Take your filthy hands off what doesn't belong to you!"

****

The figure of Kouran stepped back from Houjun, startled by the murderous rage in Joss' voice. Houjun stopped screaming when she finally let go of him, and he now hung in his manacles, sobbing brokenly, his eyes wild and unfocused.

"Now release him!" Joss pointed Houjun's ash staff threateningly at Kouran.

"I think not," rasped a venomous, androgynous voice. Kurayami glided forward from the shadows on the far side of the room, her narrow yellow irises glinting in the light of Joss' torch.

"So the Bitch-Queen finally decided to show her ugly face!" snarled Joss.

Kurayami's lips curved in amusement, her pink mouth a lurid slash against the dead white skin of her face. "You're hardly one to make judgments on personal beauty, considering the features you are burdened with."

"Hey, I'm goddamn Helen of Troy compared to you and the escapee from Krazy Kaplan's House of Halloween Horrors!" retorted Joss, waving her torch at Kouran's obscene features. She wrinkled her nose at the corpse-woman. "A friendly piece of advice: if you want to get a man, you'd better do something about that atrocious body odor."

Kouran lifted a hand to her face and gasped in horror, her cloudy, dead eyes managing to shoot a look of reproach at Kurayami.

Kurayami ignored her, fixing her snakelike eyes on Joss. "So, Shouryuu's little_ playmate._ How very devoted of you to come here--devoted and utterly stupid. Of course, it may have been your intention to free your lover," Kouran looked startled, then shot a resentful glare at Joss while Kurayami continued, "but I have a better idea. It would be very amusing if you joined him in his entertainment."

Joss kept her eyes on Kurayami as she carefully lowered the torch to a nearby stone slab. "Big talk, bitch, but you've forgotten something. First you have to get past me…_and_ Shouryuu's magician's staff." She rotated the ash staff slowly as she spoke, never taking her eyes off Kurayami's face.

Kurayami snorted in contempt. "A stupid piece of wood! The only reason that you're not dead where you stand is that I'm saving you for a special treat. How do you think Shouryuu would feel about seeing you eviscerated alive before his very eyes…oops, eye, singular!" Her small, pointed teeth gleamed in her vicious smile.

Joss shrugged in a bored fashion, increasing the speed of the staff's rotations. "Like I said, big talk from such a tiny brain." Her voice changed to a mocking tone. "You're the stupid one! Did it ever occur to you that the reason you overcame Shouryuu so easily was that he stored most of his powers in this 'stupid piece of wood?'"

Kurayami's gaze flicked to the rapidly rotating staff. Her snake eyes narrowed further as she sneered at Joss. "Highly unlikely--and even if that were true, you're no magician. You wouldn't know how to wield such power."

"Could be," Joss agreed as she spun the staff in a figure-eight around her head and upper body, advancing slowly on Kurayami and making the smaller woman retreat unconsciously. "Could be that you're right--and could be that you're wrong. Could be that this staff has so much power in it that it can wield itself. Could be that you'll find out--when you're dead!"

At that moment, Joss stumbled slightly and nearly dropped the staff, ruining her dramatic effect.

Kurayami laughed out loud at her opponent's clumsiness. "Could be that_you'll_ be the dead one, you pathetic oaf!"

At that, Joss lunged at her but tripped and fell forward over the cauldron of herbs in her path. Kurayami shrieked with laughter--as Joss continued to plunge headfirst towards the floor, tucking her head at the last moment and rolling off her shoulders in two rapid forward rolls, then swinging the staff up in a powerful arc and connecting solidly with the side of Kurayami's skull.

The female magician dropped like a stone, her yellow eyes rolling up into her head in unconsciousness. The stench of decay vanished from the room, and Joss rolled to her feet, standing over the crumpled figure of Kurayami with a smirk of triumph.

"Then again, bitch--could be that all this staff _needs_ to be is just another big stick!"

****

"_Teme!"_

Joss looked across the room at the rage-darkened features of Maboroshi, where he stood next to Houjun in Kouran's place. She sighed wearily. "You're not really gonna pitch another hissy fit, are you? 'Cause although your appearance has changed for the better, I'm still not real happy with you, body odor reduction or not. Why not admit that you've lost, and slink off to whatever hole in the ground you came out of?" Her voice sharpened with menace as she gestured at the figure of Houjun hanging quietly in his chains, his head bowed and his face hidden by his hair. "But before you go, let him out of the goddamn manacles!"

"Laughing at me!" snarled Maboroshi. "Standing there all superior, thinking that he belongs to you!" His green-yellow eyes glittered with rage and with madness born of frustration. "You're not worthy of him, you bitch! It was_me_ that he wanted, _me_ that he was kissing, _me_ that he was making love to!"

Joss' temper rose to meet his. "I got news for you, Delusion-Boy! If he had known it was _you,_ he wouldn't have touched you on a bet. If he could've seen through your illusion, he would have thrown your ass away from him." She saw Maboroshi's eyes flash and realized that she had hit home. "And I'll bet that he did just that, didn't he? Didn't he reject your sorry ass when you tried to put moves on him in your own form?"

"Shut up!" screamed Maboroshi. "Shut your fucking mouth! You're jealous because I got farther with him than you ever will!"

"Maybe, but only as long as you wore the form of another woman."

"So what?" Maboroshi's voice became sly and vicious. "I can be whoever and whatever he wants--and you _can't!_ That's what makes you angry, isn't it? The knowledge that you'll never_--never_--be who he really wants!"

Now Joss was truly enraged. "You're nothing but a pathetic little git with your head wedged up your ass!" She brought up the staff and took a step forward as if to strike him, but he was ready for her, raising one hand up in a mystical warding gesture. She retreated, snarling. "Do you really think that he's stupid enough to fall for your tricks again? If so, then let him out of those chains and see who he chooses."

Maboroshi grimaced at her challenge, his face twisting in pain. "He's mine! He'll choose me!"

"Ya _think?_ Then let him go! Whaddaya got to lose?"

Maboroshi gritted his teeth--then suddenly relaxed, his eyes shining with madness. "I know how to make _certain _that he chooses me!" he hissed. "All I have to do…is be the only one left standing here!" He brought his hand closer to his face and began chanting in a strange guttural tongue.

Joss backed away, realizing that she had overplayed her hand. She held up the ash staff defensively. "Look, this is cheating. Don't you want him to choose between us fair and square? It won't mean anything otherwise."

"Oh yes, it will!" Maboroshi interrupted his spell briefly. "He'll be mine, and that's all that matters to me!" He returned to his chant, and Joss backed further away, knowing that he was gathering power to unleash his killing spell. Her eyes darted around the chamber, looking desperately for some barrier to dive behind, but the floor was stark and empty in this part of the secret room.

At that moment, the door slammed open, and the Doctor and Magus burst into the room. Joss met the Doctor's eyes with panicked gratitude, but Maboroshi was too far gone to stop.

"_Shi ne!_" he howled, and the black arrows of death blasted towards Joss, as the Doctor's eyes went dark with terror and the bitter pain of knowing that once again, he had left it just a little…too…late.

****

****

****

Glossary of Japanese Terms:

Senpai - upperclassman; senior

Teme - rude term of address, meaning "You bitch" or "You bastard"

Shi ne! - Die!

****

**Author's notes: (12-30-03) **Whew! Kudos to you, Gentle Reader, for making it through this nightmare!

First of all, I must reiterate my abject gratitude to Ryuen for her incredible and astute help in polishing this chapter. She worked rapidly, under great pressure from me, even staying up into the wee hours of the morning so that I could reach my weird, self-imposed deadline. Ryu-chan, you are a true friend, although I don't know how you put up with me - go figure! 

Moving along: the horror genre. New to me and probably somewhat disgusting to you. But hey, the Muse rules, and I must follow, so hang in there, faithful friends; it will get better, I promise…and by better, I mean less horror. (sighs of relief) Of course, in my usual hentai way, I _had_ to mix the horror in with sex, so perhaps I've created a new fanfiction genre: horrifying sex! Gyah!

Next, the music: if you're lucky enough to get your hands on this piece by Enya, it really enhances the nightmare sequence. Pax Deorum begins when Houjun wakes on the knoll outside his flooded village. The Kouran interlude coincides with the peaceful bridge in this song, then the ominous notes of the bagpipes or horns indicate Houjun's growing uneasiness with the disintegrating scenery. The final high-pitched choral "scream" is the scene with Houjun screaming at Kouran's transformation. The song ends with Joss' entrance and threat. Whoo!

Now for the Doctor and Magus scene: yes, that was totally sci-fi and Doctor Who, but to answer Ryuen's supposition, no, the Seventh Doctor's encounter with the Swarm is not an established novel or TV episode; it originates from my twisted brain along with the rest of this fic. For those of you who have read "Hidden Paths"--perhaps things are becoming clearer in that story; after all, it _is _the sequel to "Bridge" as well as "White Stones." And yes, Jack, I realize that the Doctor is cursing at Magus at the end of their scene together, but I think he's entitled to use bad language from time to time, especially under duress. As for your exciting info about the revival of Doctor Who by the BBC to return to television by 2005: Everyone get together now and send forceful mindwaves to the producers, repeating "Paul McGann must play the Doctor!" over and over again. 

Oh, I almost forgot to explain an obscure reference for those of you who have never seen "Doctor Who" on television. Magus's continued references to "corridors" are a send-up of the many chase scenes in the TV show. Due to their extremely low budget for special effects, the Doctor and his companions were stuck running through corridors almost all of the time to indicate their flight from danger on alien planets, strange spaceships, haunted houses and just about every other imaginary location--no matter what the setting was supposed to be, they always ended up in the corridors! 

Finally…well, I'm running a little behind on my deadline to post Bridge 17 by 1-7-04. I've learned a lot by working with Ryuen this week, and I see the need for careful beta-reading of this most important and climactic chapter. So I'm going to take Tenshi's advice and take my time on writing this (and release poor Ryuen from the whip!), so that I can give you the best chapter that I'm capable of writing. I may miss my deadline, but I promise you that with Ryuen's help, I will make it worth the wait.

To all of you wonderful readers and reviewers, I hope that you have a very safe and Happy New Year!

Love,

Roku


	17. Suzaku no Seishi Chichiri

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story, as well as the plotline, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical Selections: "The End of Sadness" from the Inuyasha television series, First Season Soundtrack, copyright 2002.

"Greenwaves" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon," copyright 2002, Universal Music AS, Norway; Composed by Rolf Lovland, Lyrics by Anne Hampton Callaway.

"Elegie" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once in a Red Moon," copyright 2002, Universal Music AS, Norway; Composed by Rolf Lovland, Lyrics by Rolf Lovland.

**Strong recommendation** to my music-loving readers: Get hold of the song "Elegie" by any legal means you can ( I highly recommend the Secret Garden CD "Once in a Red Moon" - many selections from this CD are in the soundtrack to "Bridge"), and start playing the track at the "revelations outside the monastery" scene. When the vocal chorus comes in with "Miserere nobis," (Latin for "Have mercy on us"), it coincides with the line "Get out of my way." Now really crank the volume at this final, tension-building minute of the song, picturing the final reverberating "gong" of the last note coinciding with the slamming of a huge door.

All right, I know that I've whetted your appetite for the chapter to come, impulsively promising "my best chapter ever." However, I have since realized that "best chapter" is a judgment that is not mine to bestow. I will tell you, however, that this chapter has been the most difficult piece of writing I have ever tackled to date--and the fact that I've posted it means that I am satisfied with its quality. Thank you.

One final acknowledgement:

This chapter is dedicated to Ryuen, in deepest gratitude for her unflagging enthusiasm for this story, her strong support and insightful critiques, for the sacrifice of her own free time in the cause of beta-reading, and finally, for being such a magnificent friend. Ryu-chan - this one's for you.

XxX

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Chapter 17. Suzaku no Seishi Chichiri

In those final moments, as she watched the mystical arrows hiss through the air on their unwavering path to her heart, she was amazed at the myriad thoughts that flashed through her mind. It was different than she had imagined it would be, these seconds before her death. It wasn't the old cliché of time slowing down; rather, it was as if _she_ sped up, the rapidity of her thoughts easily outstripping the speed of light. Yet instead of becoming entangled in a tedious review of her life's highlights, she was caught in the moment, experiencing every single sight, sensation and emotion with breathtaking clarity.

The dull blackness of the arrows caught her eye, no glint of metal visible in the dim light, for they were not made of solid substance but rather the malignant absence of light. Strange to be killed by something that wasn't there.

No barriers, no place to run…no time to duck, anyway.

The anguish in the Doctor's eyes.

Now was the first flash of grief and pain. It wasn't fair that he should have to bear the burden of her death. It wasn't fair that she should be the one to do this to him, when she loved him so much - more than anyone in her life except for one other. It wasn't fair that he would now try to erase his memories of her because of the pain, instead of remembering their time together with laughter and love.

It wasn't fair that she wouldn't get the chance to say good-bye.

A surge of rage at the injustice. Bringing up the ash staff in a defiant last gesture…

...but feeling it twist from her grasp, spinning mystically in the air before her as a hoarse voice cried out, _"Fusege!"_

And then--it was over.

XxX

His throat burned, aching from the desperate cry that had been wrenched from him--but none of that mattered, for it had worked. The staff had spun under his command, deflecting the death arrows and sending them back into the darkness from which they had sprung.

Across the room, he saw Joss bend over, grasping her knees for support, gasping in relief at her narrow escape. However, the person who now held his attention stood right in front of him, her hazel eyes wide in disbelief as she turned and met his gaze.

Kouran. Whole and perfect once more. Staring at him as if _he_ were the ghost.

He understood it now: all of the nightmare images, all of the horror and grief that had forced him to face his guilt and responsibilities…

It was all about second chances. Rarer than diamonds, more ephemeral than morning dew, second chances were precious beyond reckoning--and he wasn't about to waste this wondrous gift. Now, for the last time, he would have the chance to tell her what was in his heart…what had been in his heart all along, even on that last day when he had fled her presence in bitter pain.

He tried to go to her, but something restrained him. Impatient with the hindrance, he rasped, "_Hanase,_ _ima!" _Something metallic at his wrists cracked and fell away, allowing him to stagger forward.

She stood frozen in place, her eyes dark with some unfathomable emotion as she stared at him. She held something small and luminescent in her right hand…a pearl? It had to be some kind of magical object that gave her the power to cast deadly spells, like the one she cast at Joss.

He couldn't allow that to happen again; he _had_ to tell her--

Swallowing hard, he tried to form words in his dry mouth. "Please," his voice was hoarse but clear, "please don't try to hurt her again. She's my friend, and she was there for me when you couldn't be."

Her eyes widened, so that she looked almost frightened of him. That wasn't right; he had to reassure her, to let her know that he understood everything.

"You don't have to be jealous. You're the one I love." He reached up a shaking hand and gently cupped her smooth cheek. "And although I know…I know that you're dead," his lips trembled with emotion as his eye filled with tears, "I'll always love you."

There was a stillness, a silence so profound that Time itself seemed to hold its breath. In that silence, two crystal drops welled up before falling from Kouran's green eyes. Suddenly shy, she lowered her glance, her long lashes veiling her brimming eyes. She leaned into the hand that cradled her cheek, her expression turning tender, vulnerable…loving. He looked down at her and softly brushed her long, dark hair from her face, holding onto this last moment with her, wishing with bittersweet longing that it would never end.

"Break it!" rasped a voice, raw with pain. "Break the goddamn illusion before I break your fucking head!"

Kouran jumped, and Houjun looked up, shocked to see Joss standing with the staff poised over Kouran's head. Her expression was twisted in grief, waves of anguish surging through her so strongly that they crashed against his own ki like breakers on a beach. His heart dropped, and he choked, "Joss, no!" not wanting to raise his hand against her.

"Do it!" Magus' deep tones boomed through the small, dark room. "I won't protect you, so I recommend that you do as she says!"

Houjun turned to see Magus and the Doctor standing on the far side of the room. He shook his head in confusion, wondering why Magus was barking orders at Kouran. At that moment, Kouran's hand tightened on his arm, and he looked down to see her gazing into his face with passion and longing--before closing the shell that held the pearl with a soft click.

Kouran's delicate features blurred before his confused gaze, and he blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. Suddenly, the face in his hand came sharply into focus. To his shock, he found himself staring down in Maboroshi's distinct features. He flinched, pulling his hand back as if it had been burned. "What…what is this? Where is she?"

Maboroshi closed his eyes, tears escaping him as his lips parted in a soundless cry of loss. Houjun stared at the faces surrounding him: Joss, blinking rapidly as she lowered the staff, refusing to meet his gaze; the Doctor, his expression grim and closed; Magus, his masked visage enigmatic as ever--and finally, Maboroshi standing where Kouran had stood, his head bowed as he sucked in his breath in soft sobs.

"So it was all a lie? She was never here?" Houjun's voice trembled in disbelief. "I never held her--or told her--? Oh, _gods!_" He brought his hands up to his face as the tears came, as they always came in his bitter life. Sinkng to his knees and rocking himself in grief, he realized that there were no second chances--not for him, not ever again. She was gone forever, and she would never know…

A few steps away, Joss stood with her arms tightly crossed, hugging herself, her tears now falling freely. She bit her lip and shifted from foot-to-foot in indecision--then, grimacing, she stooped beside Houjun, wrapping her arms around him and murmuring soft words of comfort.

The Doctor raked a weary hand through his hair, feeling the heartbreak of three young humans as they wept before him, and once again, for the millionth time, he wondered _why_. His dark reverie was interrupted by Magus' authoritative tones.

"Maboroshi, approach!"

The boy straightened, wiping at his eyes with one sleeve, tensing as if he were about to defy Magus, but habit born of long years of servitude brought him with dragging steps to answer his master's command.

The obsidian mask stared down at him in imposing silence, but Maboroshi was too lost in his own grief to be intimidated. Finally Magus sighed. "There are no words to sufficiently describe my disappointment in you, Maboroshi--in both you and Kurayami. Nor, in your current state of mind, would it be worth my while to try to enlighten you to the magnitude of the disaster that you have wrought. Therefore, I command only this: that you and Kurayami be confined to your quarters until I have time to deal with you both. You are dismissed. Take the body of your confederate with you as you go."

Maboroshi turned away, his expression dull and lost. He lifted the body of Kurayami easily over one shoulder, as if she had no more substance than a bag of bones, and walked out of the secret room without looking back.

Magus walked over and stood contemplating Houjun in his misery, the mage's eyes sparking with anger but his deep voice gentle with concern. "How is he?"

Joss released Houjun, interposing herself between him and Magus. "What do you care, you bastard? Want to know how effective your torture was, want to see up _close?_ I'll give you fair warning: I took down Kurayami and I'll do it to you, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch!"

Amusement wafted from the enigmatic figure. "Technically I don't have a mother, but I take your meaning. However, please believe me when I tell you I had no idea of Kurayami's machinations nor of Shouryuu's confinement here. I would never condone any abuse of him."

"Fuck that, and fuck _you!"_

"Joss," warned the Doctor, feeling the situation escalating out of control. "He is telling the truth--at the moment, that is."

"Oh yeah? Well, he's still responsible for bringing that mega-bitch here in the first place and helping to set up Houjun in the exorcism!"

"Joss, this isn't helping."

"She's quite right, Doctor," interrupted Magus. "The final responsibility lies with me. I chose to bring Kurayami here because of her advanced abilities, but I utterly failed to take into account her aptitude for evil." The mask turned towards Joss once again. "My plan was for Shouryuu to succeed in a very difficult exorcism with no help from me, thus strengthening his resolve to remain with the school, but Kurayami's plan was obviously quite different. However, she claimed that he had staged the disaster so that he could escape with his new friend," the mask swung back towards the Doctor, "and until I had the chance to question him myself, I could not prove otherwise."

"Bull! You expect us to believe that you knew Houjun for over eighteen months and still thought him capable of cold-blooded murder? I'm not buying it! You've got some other plan up your nasty sleeve, and you might as well spit it out, 'cause if I don't get to the bottom of it," Joss jabbed a finger at the Doctor, "he will!"

"Her crudeness is regrettable, but her perceptiveness provokes admiration," Magus addressed the Doctor, ignoring Joss. "Very much your type of companion, if I remember correctly."

"Indeed," replied the Doctor smoothly. "Joss values honesty above all else and has a low tolerance for lack of the same in others. Also, being a sentient, intelligent person, she deserves the respect of being addressed directly--if you have the courage, that is."

"Point taken, Doctor." Magus fixed his glittering gaze on Joss. "You are correct in your assumptions, young woman. I'd strongly suspected that Kurayami had taken action to dispose of one whom she regarded as a possible competitor, and knew when Shouryuu broke his word to me and failed to return to the school, it meant he had been severely damaged. I had also suspected that this mysterious traveler, whom Kurayami subsequently reported that Shouryuu addressed as 'Doctor,' would do more to heal the trauma he'd suffered than anything I could achieve. So I decided to wait, expecting that the endless curiosity of both Shouryuu and the Doctor would bring them back here in due time. I did not, however, foresee that Kurayami would bring Shouryuu back sooner for her own purposes: purposes that I intend to uncover shortly."

"Okay, I get it now," retorted Joss. "So you're a good guy, stupid but well-meaning. Fine, my bad. In any case, we're blowing this joint. See ya around, don't wait for a call."

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that." The menace beneath the calm tones was unmistakable. "You may leave, but Shouryuu must remain. He has an important role to play, a critical mission to fulfill."

"You can _take_ that 'critical mission' and _shove it_ up your critical--!"

"Joss, wait." The voice was low and hoarse. Houjun had pushed to his feet behind Joss, pale and visibly trembling yet holding onto his reason despite all that he had suffered. "You're right, Magus. I did intend to return here for the answers you are now offering." He grasped Joss' arm, both restraining her and drawing on her strength.

Magus fixed a long look upon the bloodied, shaking figure. "Admirable as always, Shouryuu; even now, in spite of all of your grievous wounds, you seek enlightenment." The rumbling tones deepened in genuine concern. "But I recommend that you return to your chamber and rest; it will be a while before you are mentally ready to reassume your role in this great undertaking."

"What undertaking? After all of this, why should your mission matter to me?" Houjun was genuinely bewildered.

"It matters to everyone here, Shouryuu--everyone in this room, in this school, in this world!" Magus' voice intensified as he fixed Shouryuu with a hypnotic stare. "The fate of millions rests upon your shoulders; this is not a responsibility you can ignore! I _need_ you to--"

"No, you don't." The Doctor grasped Magus' arm, pulling him away so that they could confer in private. "Let the boy go," he urged softly, so that Joss and Houjun could not hear. "He's too damaged to do you much good in any case. Who knows how long it will take him to regain the psychic strength you require?"

Magus shook his head. "I have no choice, as well you know, Doctor; Shouryuu is all that I have! I need him."

"No, you don't," interrupted the Doctor for the second time. "You don't need him...when you have me."

Magus glared at the Doctor. "I've already told you that I need a human prism to focus the psychic energies of my human students. You lack the attributes I require."

"No, _you_ lack those attributes," retorted the Doctor calmly. "Look into my eyes, Magus."

Magus sighed wearily. "Doctor, you disappoint me with these tired cliches."

"You misunderstand me. Look _deep_ into my eyes, Magus--all the way to the retinas."

Magus regarded the Doctor warily, then, catching the smaller man's chin in a strong grip, he turned the Doctor's face to the lamplight. He leaned in, his gaze focused tightly on the Doctor's widening pupils, then drew back with a gasp.

"You have…your retinal pattern…you're half-_human!_ I never knew!"

"Not many do. It's not information I spread around…usually. But getting back to the point, you can see that I have what you require."

"I…I don't know," Magus muttered uncertainly. "I don't know if this will work--and I'm fairly certain that I can't trust you!"

"With the fate of an entire world at stake? I thought that you had studied my history, Magus."

"Yes, I have, and that's exactly why I don't trust you," retorted Magus, drawing back from the Doctor and pacing in unaccustomed agitation. "You're a liar, a trickster, a manipulator of minds--"

"And I'm all that you've got," finished the Doctor. "Think about it, Magus. Houjun may recover, but it will take time, a commodity that we may not have. I'm ready right at this moment, and furthermore, I understand exactly what it is that you require me to do. In fact, I daresay that I understand it better than you."

Magus stopped and straightened, regaining his equanimity. "Circles within circles," he murmured to himself. "Yes, there is a symmetry to this that I cannot deny…" He raised his voice so that the others could hear. "Very well. I accept your offer, Doctor." He turned his mask toward Joss and Houjun. "You two may leave."

"NO!" Houjun pushed away from Joss. His hands fisted at his side as he glared wildly at the two men. "I don't understand everything that's going on here," he rasped, "but I know this much! I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself in my place, Doctor! I've already told you: you have no _right_ to fight my battles for me! I won't have it!"

"And I've already told you," intoned the Doctor in a strange, bloodless voice, "this situation involves more than just you." His eyes flared with an abstruse green light, making Joss step back involuntarily.

Houjun was not so easily unnerved. "It doesn't matter what you say!" His hands trembled with fatigue, yet he stretched them out to the Doctor, palms up. "Please," he pleaded, "don't do this to us. We agreed to stand together, remember? Joss said that we're a team." His eye filled with tears. "There's so much that I've lost this day, so much that I can't understand…but the one thing in my life that's true--is you."

Silence fell once again like an avalanche of soft snow, trapping them all in a strange stillness…a stillness in which the Doctor inexplicably failed to move toward Houjun, leaving the reaching hands empty, yearning…

"How very touching." Magus' voice crackled with sarcasm, breaking the silence like an axe driven into ice. "And how sad, Shouryuu, that you should have placed your trust in one such as him. But the question is--did you really, of your own accord, place your trust in him? Or did he manipulate you into doing so?"

Houjun shot an angry glance at Magus. "What are you talking about? What would _you_ know about trust--or about us?"

"Such disrespect," sighed Magus, shaking his head. "Yet we have a history between us, a relationship in which I've always told you the truth. I've never concealed from you the fact that we were embroiled in a great undertaking, a mission that might call for the sacrifice of all you have. Yet you had wisely remained wary, keeping your secrets to yourself--until you met him."

He moved forward until he stood behind the Doctor, facing Houjun and Joss, the mystical eyes behind his mask seeming somehow less strange than the Doctor's cryptic stare. "How long did it take for you to trust him, Shouryuu? Five minutes…ten? How long was it before you were blurting out secrets that you had never told anyone?"

Houjun blinked and stepped back.

"Don't be ashamed," Magus' voice was condescendingly reassuring. "He works that way with everyone: invading their minds, manipulating them to trust him. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that he's famous for it! Haven't you ever noticed how he slips past nearly everyone's guard?"

Houjun expelled a breath, trying to force away the memory of how quickly Saihitei and his Imperial advisor had trusted the Doctor, how easily Ryuuen had obeyed him--how he himself, with all of his wariness born of experience, had almost immediately opened up to the stranger. "No." He shook his head slowly from side-to-side, uncertain of what he was denying. "No."

"No?" Magus mocked.

"It wasn't like that!" Houjun burst out. "Tell him, Doctor!"

But the Doctor continued to stare silently past Houjun, denying nothing. There was nothing remorseful or abashed in his stare--only cold indifference.

"No, you can't fool me, Doctor! You helped me…_held_ me…forgave me for my crimes!"

"Did he now?" Magus purred. "What crimes might those be? The accidental death of your friend? How very charitable of him to bestow absolution--he, who has killed millions!"

"You're lying!" Joss shouted furiously, unable to keep silent any longer. "He could never hurt anyone! You're the liar, _you're_ the manipulator!"

"Another deluded soul," sighed Magus. "Well, Doctor, what do you have to say? Am I indeed a liar?"

The Doctor settled his gaze on Joss and Houjun, his eyes empty of anything but a sort of distant contempt. "What is there to say? These…_children_ are not capable of understanding."

"Yes, we are!" begged Joss. "Just tell us, Doctor! We _know_ that Magus is lying; we know that you aren't that way!"

"Then you must go out into the galaxy and re-educate various species." Magus retorted, savagely amused. "Do you imagine that you know him? You don't even know his true name! Of course, he reveals it to no one, so the races he encounters must make up their own names for him." His voice darkened, growing serious so that his tones rang ominous and true. "The Daleks call him, 'Ka Faraq Gatri,' 'the Bringer of Darkness.' The Draconians' name for him means 'The Oncoming Storm.' He has destroyed entire planets, watched coldly as millions have perished by his hand--and all know that when the Doctor appears, death and destruction follow in his wake!"

"You're _lying!_" screamed Houjun, losing control. "Doctor, _tell_ him!" He lunged forward and grasped the Doctor's velvet lapels, staring desperately into the cold emerald eyes. "Tell him that he's lying! Don't let him do this to us! Don't LEAVE ME!"

The Doctor reached up and covered Houjun's hands with his own. Houjun closed his eye in relief at the simple touch. He knew it! He _knew_ that the Doctor would never--

"Leave you?" The voice was soft and contemptuous. Houjun frowned in confusion and opened his eye to meet a glittering blue-green gaze as complex and detached as the eyes of a dragonfly. "I'm not leaving anything. You are. Go." With that, the Doctor plucked Houjun's hands from his lapels.

Houjun stood and stared at the Doctor, grief surging through his heart--then looked down at his empty hands. "How can you do this to me?" he whispered. "Aren't we the same?"

"The _same_?" Magus laughed. "He's not the same as you; if anything, he's more like _me_ than anyone else in this room."

"You're a lying bastard!" hissed Joss. "He's _nothing_ like you!"

"Oh, no? Then feel this!" He shot his sleeves back and reached out his arm to Joss, turning it palm upward so that his wrist was exposed. "Go on; take my pulse."

Joss moved forward suspiciously, taking the proffered hand as if it were a dead reptile. She pressed her fingers to his wrist, then frowned. She moved her fingers all around his wrist, checking and rechecking. "You have two pulses!" she gasped.

"Yes. It's an inevitable side-effect of having two hearts."

"But no human has--!"

"Exactly correct." He turned his mask toward Houjun. "Now it's your turn." Houjun stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Magus. "Oh, very well. Doctor, would you mind?"

The Doctor extended one arm. Magus pushed back the velvet sleeve, then undid the diamond links on the silk cuff, pushing that up as well. "Shouryuu, if you please."

Houjun remained still for a moment before pushing forward and grasping the Doctor's wrist. He clung desperately to his friend's arm, hoping to somehow reach him, _shake_ him, make him listen, make him _feel_.

But the Doctor remained motionless in his frantic grasp. The seconds ticked by, and Houjun tightened his grip--then felt it. Repeating patterns of double beats fluttering beneath his fingers, tiny traces of the powerful organs that drove blood through the Doctor's body. Throb-_throb._ Throb-_throb. _Each time, one beat too many. The skin strangely cool, like the skin of some loathsome, lidless creature.

Different. Foreign.

Alien.

He looked up into the chill green-blue eyes, the color shifting in the spectra of strange and distant stars--and felt his own heart stop in dread. "What…" he choked, nearly overcome by feelings of rage, betrayal, and primal fear, "what in all the hells _are_ you?"

XxX

The Doctor stood at the narrow window high in the rear tower, gazing down at the small loop of road that glimmered like a silver ribbon in the moonlight. To his relief, he saw two tiny shadows moving rapidly along the road: riders on horseback appearing and disappearing from his view as they galloped away from the mystical castle.

It had taken a strong mental message to compel Joss to pull the shaken, angry Houjun from the chamber and set out eastward for the monastery of Suzaku. Her mind had flared up in protest at leaving him, but he had forced his will upon her, invading her mind and playing upon her fears for Houjun's life. He winced inwardly. What he had done to her was bad enough, but it paled in comparison to how he had violated Houjun's trust. The Doctor felt a lump rise in his throat as he remembered the look of betrayal on Houjun's face. "Needs must," he whispered to himself, firmly pushing away the thought of how many times he had used that phrase in his last incarnation.

"Shall I offer you a penny?" Magus' deep tones startled him out of his reverie.

The Doctor turned to face his rival, reassuming his air of casual insouciance. "They're hardly worth the price. Shall we go on?" Turning back, he resumed climbing the winding stairs.

"You needn't worry. Shouryuu and your young woman are quite safe for the moment…well, as safe as anyone on this planet."

The Doctor shrugged, stopping before the huge metal alloy door to the crystal chamber. "The important thing is that they're no longer underfoot."

Magus sighed and pushed past the Doctor. "How many times must I remind you I have studied your ways? Your companions are never just casual acquaintances to you, Doctor, so you may as well curtail your increasingly wearisome attempts to deceive me." He raised one hand vertically to his face as he focused his psychic power by muttering soft, sibilant words. The Doctor recognized the same spell-casting technique that Houjun used, no doubt learned under Magus' instruction.

The door groaned as it yielded its great weight to the power of Magus' command, inching slowly open as if reluctant to grant them access. The Doctor lightly touched its brushed metal surface. "Dwarf star alloy? Isn't that overkill in this low-tech world?"

"I prefer to err on the side of caution. The density of the dwarf star composite will hold against nearly any assault. This makes it an effective first-line defense for the chamber below, which will serve not only as the focal point of my psychic signal enhancement, but also as the control center when the initial attacks commence." Magus politely waved the Doctor past, indicating that he was to precede him down the floating staircase.

"Ah, yes, the initial attacks." The Doctor's voice took on a distinct chill as he made a leisurely descent into the vaulted chamber, pausing every so often to examine the entire psychic focusing arena, and staring especially hard at the crystalline array above the raised dais. "I suppose you realize that no matter how successful your counterattack, there are certain to be a significant number of deaths once the Swarm makes its appearance. But then again, I believe that your sort has a name for this eventuality. Collateral damage, isn't that right?"

Magus brushed past him once they reached the chamber floor. "I've never used that term myself, but I suppose it applies under the circumstances."

The Doctor wandered around the chamber, trailing a finger across blank marble-like slabs, watching as control panels appeared magically in their depths to request pass codes in classic Gallifreyan. "How much do you really know about the Swarm?"

"I would venture to say that I know more about the ways of the Swarm than you do." Magus' voice remained steady, but the Doctor noted the slight tremor in his hands. "For example, general knowledge holds that the Swarm enters a new situation in a methodical and cautious way for the protection of the Hive. The intelligent half of the symbiote, the ones known as the 'Controllers,' do not even set foot on a target planet until their non-sentient, bioengineered cohort species, the 'Shadow-Beasts,' make a series of initial forays to determine the capabilities of their prey. Only if the prey is unlikely to pose a threat to the Hive will the Swarm proceed with the decisive attack protocol. However, I happen to know that they are capable of modifying their behavior to move quickly into a favorable prey environment should the opportunity present itself."

"Really?" The Doctor's interest was piqued. "And how did you come by this piece of information?"

"No."

"It wasn't a yes-or-no question."

"It is now. I have no interest in enlightening you at this time. Please remove your coat and waistcoat and step up to the dais, Doctor."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "So soon? Your students haven't even arrived yet."

"It's a few hours until dawn. Talented as they are, I would prefer they get as much rest as possible before this strenuous task. After all, they're only human." Magus smiled a grim, humorless smile.

"So you need me at this moment to--?"

"Let's just call it an initial fitting session."

The Doctor shrugged off his garments as requested and stepped up to the dais. Suddenly, Magus leapt at him and slammed him back against the crossbar structure, snapping the restraints quickly around his wrists and ankles.

"Ouch!" complained the Doctor. "And how rude!"

"I have told you that I prefer to err on the side of caution, especially when it comes to you, Doctor. I'm well aware of your talent for escaping the most elaborate of prisons, so I've decided to keep it simple. A few restraints, and myself as honorary guard."

"Overkill again, Magus; why should I attempt to escape when I worked so hard to get here?"

"Ah yes…it was interesting to watch your mental manipulation of your trusting associates. You certainly did nothing to refute the accusations I brought against you. However, it was all for naught; you may have pushed Shouryuu away for the present, but I shall merely fetch him back when I have need of him."

"That may not be as easy as you think. He will be beyond your reach--"

"Hiding out at the monastery of Suzaku," Magus interrupted, his voice an amused rumble. "Really, Doctor, you disappoint me with your continual transparency. I'm beginning to think that I should re-examine the sentience scores of all of the enemies you have defeated. Did you truly believe that Shouryuu would be safe behind a shield of worshippers of an imaginary god?"

"Imaginary, is that what you think? At least that explains your careless attitude towards this world, but," the Doctor leaned forward, pulling against his restraints. "_why_ do you still want Houjun? I have all the abilities you require."

"Perhaps…or perhaps not. In any case, I know you too well to trust you. It is also evident that I cannot trust Kurayami or her pawn Maboroshi. The ultimate psychic weapon must have more than power, Doctor; he must have faith in the mission and the desire to fulfill it. Your intention is to thwart me, whereas Kurayami…well, her motives are murkier, but I feel certain she does not wish me success. Therefore, the responsibility shall fall to Shouryuu once again. With the right manipulation, especially after you so brutally destroyed his faith in you, it will only be a matter of time."

"I thought you had no more time. You said the Swarm could arrive at any moment!"

The man behind the mask regarded him calmly. "I lied. Without the focusing power of the psychic prism, my students did not have the power to send a transdimensional signal."

The Doctor fisted his hands in frustration. "So once again, what's it all _for?"_

"Ah, the purpose of this array remains the same; the timing is just a bit different. Instead of being the defense against the enemy, your purpose shall be to draw them here." Magus hesitated, then spoke very softly, as if to himself, "I can't begin to describe how steeped in irony that is." He seemed lost in thought for a moment but suddenly shook his head and continued to attach fiberoptic lines to the Doctor's temples. "When you offered yourself in Shouryuu's place, you presented me with a perfect solution to the problem of his mental trauma. You gave me a psychic prism that I could utilize while waiting for him to recover, thus eliminating a tiresome delay. However, there is a significant complication."

Magus looked up and met the Doctor's curious gaze. "You rebuked me earlier, asking why I hadn't volunteered myself as the psychic prism. What you do not realize is that long before I found Shouryuu, I _did_ attempt to execute that role--and succeeded in nearly executing myself. In spite of the many similarities between human and Gallifreyan physiologies, there appears to be a definite incompatibility in the interface of their psychic energies. It seems that the concentration of human psychic wave forms in the Gallifreyan brain results in the destruction of Gallifreyan neural tissues. In other words, although Shouryuu would have survived this first psychic focusing experiment, it is unlikely that your half-Gallifreyan physiognomy will allow you to do the same. It will be a definite race against time for me to fully utilize your focusing abilities before your cerebral cortex is, shall we say, compromised. I could almost feel pity for you--if I hadn't lost my capacity for pity long ago."

He stepped back to critically survey his handiwork. "Once you have been spent, I will bring Shouryuu back to play the role for which I have groomed him. Then the Swarm will be eliminated for all eternity, and everyone will live happily ever after. Except for you, of course."

The Doctor snorted. "Nor Houjun, either, don't forget. In any case, that's a terribly linear way of thinking. Your presumption of success is premature, considering the nature of your enemy. How can you conceive of such an undertaking without a contingency plan?"

"Oh, I have contingency plans." Magus' voice grew soft with menace. "But they are of no concern to you, Doctor, since you will not be around to appreciate them. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."

The Doctor subsided into silence for the next hour or so, using the opportunity to observe Magus as he moved around the chamber. His gaze sharpened as he took in Magus' increasingly unsteady hands and occasional stumbles. Finally he decided that it was time to draw Magus' attention back to himself.

"You haven't slept in a very long time, have you?"

Magus didn't look up from the control console. "You know very well that our species does not require much sleep."

"True…but even a Gallifreyan must sleep for at least an hour or so every two diurnal cycles." The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "My guess is that you haven't closed your eyes for at least three weeks."

Magus sighed with exaggerated patience, but the tremor in his hands increased. "Sleep is highly overrated; you yourself expound that belief. In any case, I grow weary of explaining myself to you. Can't you find something else to occupy your mind?"

"As a matter of fact, no. I'm terribly bored just hanging around here, and since the only other thoughts that come to mind involve my painful and inevitable demise, I'd much rather talk about you. For example, all of your cryptic remarks about the Swarm seem to hint at some connection with me. I can't help but feel that there is something personal between us, something I know nothing about--but you do."

Magus clutched the console, his knuckles white from the pressure, then slowly relaxed his grip before replying. "Why don't we talk about _you,_ Doctor?" His tone sharpened. "Your genetic makeup is quite unexpected. Considering the rank and class of your Gallifreyan ancestry, I must say that your father's choice of a human mate is surprising."

"Careful, now." The Doctor's voice was soft but cold. "Although my physiognomy is Gallifreyan, I am no more tolerant of insults to my mother than any other human."

"I meant no disrespect," Magus replied honestly. "In fact, I feel nothing but admiration for the way your father flouted Gallifreyan convention to make his own choice. I myself--" He stopped suddenly.

"You yourself what? You're full Gallifreyan, so you can't claim alien ancestry--Ah. I see it now. It's not _me_ that you identify with; it's my father." The Doctor pressed his advantage. "So you decided to participate in a little cross-species experimentation?"

"I did not insult your mother, Doctor; do not insult my wife!" Magus snarled--then stopped once more. "I can't believe it! You're doing it again!" He brought a hand up to one temple, as if he were in pain.

"Doing what?" The Doctor deliberately added a mocking note to his voice. "I merely wished to discover what manner of time lord I'm dealing with--and now I know. It's as I said before: you're nothing but a rank amateur, a one-time fanboy who thought he could follow in my footsteps--up until he stumbled, that is." He could see that Magus was visibly trembling and pushed it as far as it would go. "Just look at you, hiding out in this back corner of the universe, playing your pathetic genocidal games! Why did you even bother dallying with a female from another world, if all you were going to do was abandon her and any of your unfortunate progeny in favor of pretending to be me?" He leaned forward as far as the restraints would allow.

"Shut up!" roared Magus, goaded to the breaking point. "You arrogant, _superior_--you know nothing of my family, so just _shut UP!"_

The Doctor's eyes gleamed with contempt. "I know they're not here, so obviously they mean much less to you than your fantasies of cross-dimensional domination!"

Magus leaped up onto the platform and shoved the Doctor back, knocking his head hard against the crossbar. _"Yes, they're not here!"_ he screamed into the Doctor's face. "They're not here, because they're not _anywhere!_ They're DEAD, Doctor--and _YOU--!_ He choked off his words, then grasped the Doctor's silk shirt and tore it down the middle, grabbing up a handful of fiberoptic lines and attaching them wildly, randomly to the Doctor's chest.

The Doctor blinked rapidly, trying to regain his focus. "And I what? What are you getting at, Magus? How am I supposed to understand your ravings?"

Magus grabbed the torn edges of the Doctor's shirt, pulling him up as if he were about to shake him or strike him. His mystical eyes blazed with fury, but he suddenly pushed away from the Doctor and spun around, returning to his control console. His fingers flew rapidly over the surface with jerky, agitated movements.

"You've asked so many questions this night," he hissed. "You've stood there with your immutable sense of superiority and passed judgment on me, as you have passed judgment on so many other species. Well, I'm going to shock you out of your calm conceit." He paused and glared up at the disheveled figure on the dais. "You've tried again and again to get me to divulge our common history, and at last you shall have your way. But there is a condition, Doctor: each time that I feel pain in relating my story--so will you."

He jabbed one finger at a control on the panel. The fiberoptic lines attached to the Doctor's chest glowed with transmitted energy, and the Doctor cried out and jerked against the restraints. Magus drew the back of one shaking hand across his mouth. "Yes," he murmured, "that is only level four on a scale of ten--just a slight taste of what is to come. I believe you're ready now."

He turned and faced the Doctor, keeping one hand on the control console. "As usual, your guesses as to my story were not far off the mark, although I don't feel that my past deserves your contempt. Yes, I had been part of a group of rebellious young Gallifreyans who found a common interest in your carefully shrouded history, a history that we took delight in uncovering. We hacked into the sealed records at the Capitol and spent many an afternoon vicariously experiencing the universe through your numerous, varied--and always officially denied--adventures on behalf of Gallifrey. You had also appeared to continually intervene for the good of Earth and her human colonists, although I didn't understand why, until now. My friends eventually settled down, as good little Gallifreyans were expected to do, but I could never resign myself to that life. I remained unsettled, dissatisfied, longing for adventure--and perhaps part of that was your fault, although I feel most of it was due to my own intrinsic nature. However, unlike you, I never rebelled openly; I just bided my time, going through the motions of being a proper time lord--until they awarded me my first TARDIS."

The Doctor listened attentively, noticing that although Magus seemed calmer, he also seemed wearier, less in control of himself with each passing minute.

"Unlike you, I am a patient man, Doctor. I played the game, staying firmly within the rules during my time of probation: never straying off course or too far from current time. When I finally became firmly established in one of those paralyzingly boring historical survey positions, I made my move. I detonated a decoy artron bomb, sent up an aborted distress signal, then disappeared through a collapsing neutron star into an alternate dimension that I had detected during one of my surveys. I assumed the High Council gave me a respectable funeral, despite the absence of a body."

Magus gave a soft, rueful laugh, so deep into his memories that he seemed to have forgotten the Doctor's presence. "The first world I stumbled across in that dimension was a peaceful, green planet inhabited by a race of ultra-sensitive telepaths who called themselves the Ni-fal-rlan, and the first Ni-fal-rlan I encountered was a tall, graceful woman of few words, like all her people, but imbued with immense curiosity and humor. And so began--and ended--my career in galactic intervention. I lost all interest in your history, Doctor, in your adventures and philosophy and companions, for I had finally found a companion of my own: Ki-eyrin-ciel, beloved poet of the Southern shores of Ni-fal."

"Ki-eyrin-ciel," repeated Magus, and her name was like a poem on his lips. "I called her 'Eyrin' for short, and she laughed at our strange custom of alternate names. She laughed at many things, at everything--our differences, our similarities--and I spent my days dreamily contemplating the next time I would hear that musical laugh. We were joined officially in the rites of her world: a huge and joyful celebration, for Eyrin was revered and loved throughout the world for her skill as a poet and songwriter.

"We had resigned ourselves to childlessness, for we were of two different species--but somewhere in the mists of time we must have shared a common ancestry, for we were gifted with the miracle of a son. He had her long, narrow features and throaty laugh, and my inquisitive eyes and restlessness. We named him, "Ciel-kei-ama," 'Child of the Land and Sky.'" The lips beneath the mask curved in fond memory. "For the next eight solar revolutions, I lived a life of thrilling adventure, the adventure of falling deeper in love with the most extraordinary woman I had ever met and of being part of the wonder of life that was our son. I thought I would have that happiness forever.

"But one day, Doctor--one day, strange and terrible beasts came tumbling into our atmosphere as if they had been flung from a celestial catapult. They were disoriented at first, and we killed many of them, but they regrouped quickly under the command of their masters. That was when the carnage began." The glittering eyes lifted and fixed on the Doctor with a steady, terrible stare. "You might wonder why a planet of peaceful telepaths attacked and killed seemingly helpless creatures, but we were not ignorant of what they were. We knew of the Shadow Beasts of the Swarm--how could a psychic race hope to survive in the same dimension as those vicious predators without developing survival skills? The Ni-fal-rlan had over the course of millennia erected a psychic shield of vast proportions, a shield that commenced at their nearest moon and extended outward for light-years, behind which they had remained safely hidden for thousands of years. They had erected offworld outposts and guard asteroids; they had never expected the Swarm to somehow bypass the shield and end up within our atmosphere with no warning whatsoever.

"I'll never forget those first hours of confusion and death." Magus' hand twitched spasmodically on the panel, and the Doctor felt a growing heat in his chest. "The screams, the dust, the blood--we fought with whatever weapons we could find, but they broke like matchsticks in the jaws of those demon beasts. It wasn't until a group of civilian militia trained a high-powered sonic signal on the creatures that we were able to kill some and force the rest to retreat. However, we knew their masters, the Controllers, could not be far behind--and that the evil of these engineered creatures would pale in comparison to the ruthlessness of their hell-born leaders."

Sweat began beading on the Doctor's temples as the heat in his chest intensified. "Magus!" he gasped. "Why are you doing this to me? I still don't understand!"

"Oh, you will, Doctor; be patient." He released the switch, and the heat subsided. The Doctor leaned his head back against the crossbar, closing his eyes in relief. "_Listen_ to the story you so desperately wanted to hear. We knew our world was in intense, perhaps fatal peril. I was no hero, Doctor; I could only think of the welfare of my own beloved family. I begged Eyrin and Kei to get into my long-unused TARDIS and escape with me, but Eyrin refused. She was a symbol of hope for her people, and she would not desert them in their darkest hour. However, she begged me to take the TARDIS back to Gallifrey and plead for help from the time lords. Some demon of desperation made me comply, for it was not my own death I feared so much as hers and Kei's. I tried to take Kei with me, but he refused to part from his mother, saying that she needed him to defend her until I returned."

The Doctor cried out as pain suddenly flashed through his body.

"No, Doctor, hold on--much lies ahead before we are through with this tale! I kissed my beloved ones hastily, for we knew time was short, then I steered once more through the dimensional gate to a star system I had hoped never to set eyes upon again. I shocked Gallifreyan planetary defenses into granting me access, and burst wildly into the meeting chambers of the High Council. And what, Doctor, _what_ do you suppose the Council had to say to their prodigal child?"

The pain spiked, burning through every nerve in the Doctor's body--and just as suddenly stopped. The Doctor sagged in his restraints, panting for a few moments before regaining his breath. "The same--the same as always! Their relentless policy of non-interference, especially in another dimension. What did you expect?"

"Ah, but there was something I did _not_ expect. One of my old friends had become a top aide to the newest Cardinal. He was the one who led me as I cursed, weeping with despair from the Council chambers, hustling me out before they decided to arrest me. Out of kindness, he told me something in confidence, something I would never have otherwise found out. The High Council was even further disinclined to consider my request because their renegade agent, the _Doctor_, had just recently repelled the Swarm from an invasion of our home galaxy, and they did not want to compromise the results of his success!"

The Doctor screamed as lightning bolts of energy flashed through his torso, making him arch against the crossbars in agony until his vision went dark. Magus pulled back on the control and walked over to the Doctor, pulling his hair back and slapping him lightly across the face to bring him back to consciousness. "Stay with me, stay with me now," he crooned, his previously steady tones wavering with madness. "I need you to hear this next part, Doctor, so do try to keep up."

The Doctor breathed shallowly and rapidly, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to hold onto consciousness. Magus smiled a demented, satisfied smile and returned to the console. "I escaped Gallifrey with the help of my former friend and returned to my adopted home to stand with the Ni-fal-rlan in one last battle. I hoped to talk Eyrin and Kei into fleeing with me once they realized that all was lost--but I was too late."

His deep voice grew deeper, harsher, so that it tolled through the chamber like a bell calling mourners to a funeral. "I had miscalculated the time of my return by two diurnal cycles--and in that time, the Controllers had landed, pillaged the populace of their psychic energies, and departed once more. I walked through the smoking ruins of what had once been a city of light, art and beauty, calling for Eyrin and Kei, calling…calling…until at last I heard an answer."

Magus' voice grew soft and cold as he looked up at his captive. "You know some things about the Swarm, Doctor, but there are many things that you could not know and yet defend their right to exist. I cannot tell you much about their culture, even after studying them for years, but there is one thing I know for certain. They can effect a type of rough and rapid mutation between members of their race by recombining body parts. If a dominant Controller drone feels that a lower-ranking drone has some physical advantage, let's say longer limbs, the dominant drone will attack and overcome the lower drone. It will then either sever and re-attach the desired limb to its own body, or conversely recombine with the body of the lesser drone to form a composite being. This is regarded as beneficial to the Hive, so it is a common practice among their kind."

"However," the deep voice darkened once again, "they sometimes attempt to effect this _transformation_ on their prey. I am uncertain if they do it as a scientific experiment or as a cultural expression or just for enjoyment. The one thing that does not matter to them in the least is the fact that their prey species are seldom adaptable to this kind of recombination."

The Doctor sucked in a hissing breath as the burning started up in his chest once again. He squinted through pain-blurred eyes at the tall figure now hunched over the console, trembling violently.

"Now where was I? Ah yes--the answer!" Magus' voice sounded harsh, strained, crackling in the Doctor's ears like breaking glass. "I heard her cry out, saw something move in the curling smoke, and then I saw…I saw _them!_" He drew in ragged breaths as his hands clutched convulsively on the cold surface of the console. "Those unspeakable abominations had taken my wife and son and combined their bodies into one! They had somehow melded them through their torsos, and my son's small body hung crossways to his mother's as she dragged them towards me!"

The Doctor cried out as the pain spiked and stopped, spiked and stopped. Magus kept clutching at the controls as his voice rose in anguish. "My son was too young, not strong enough to survive this…this… He had gone mad and hung gibbering and drooling, clutching at the empty air. But my wife--she _knew!_ She knew me and called my name, and I…I didn't even know how to hold her around my son's flailing limbs! She cried out to me and begged me to kill her, to kill them! She saw the horror in my eyes and screamed that if I ever loved her, I would end their torment right then! I didn't have anything with me, nothing humane or clean or--but she just kept screaming and _screaming_, until I picked up a thick board and I…I…_I--!"_

Magus howled in anguish, and the Doctor screamed with him as bolt after energy bolt shot through him, flinging him back against the crossbars over and over again. His hands jerked helplessly in the restraints, grasping at empty air in a mindless attempt to escape the agony, until finally, mercifully, all went dark. He retreated into the darkness, feeling its soft nothingness surround him…until a hiss sounded in his ear, jerking him suddenly, brutally back into agonizing consciousness. He forced open his tearing eyes to see Magus standing before him, an air hypo in his shaking hands, his chest still heaving with suppressed sobs.

Magus clumsily grasped the Doctor's shoulder and shook him roughly. "Can't do that!" he gasped. "Lost control--almost killed you--and we can't have that! You still have a role to play, Doctor, so wake up!"

"Why?" The pained whisper was soft and weak. "I still don't understand…what I…have to do with…"

"Haven't you guessed, Doctor? Has the pain fogged your brain into complete insensibility? How do you think the Swarm ended up so unexpectedly within our space? What force could have catapulted them past our outposts and defenses, as if they had been flung from another _dimension?"_

"Oh, no. No!" The Doctor let out a soft, grief-stricken exhalation.

"Oh yes, Doctor. You. You and your incompetent, interfering ways!"

The Doctor grimaced, his gaze still clouded with confusion. "Incompetent?"

"Yes! When I finally regained my sanity, I went back to find out whatever I could! I discovered the little human colony that you had defended from the Swarm. For the sake of a few hundred lives, you destroyed an entire planet!"

The Doctor shook his head as if to clear it, then pulled himself up in his restraints, in possession of his faculties once more. "How could I know that? Even you must realize how unjust that accusation is!"

"Is it? I found out something else from that group of colonists: you could have implemented a strategy that might have utterly destroyed the Swarm, but you held your hand, content to merely force them back to their own dimension. What sort of insanity compelled you to let such a vicious species escape?"

"They were sentient, and we didn't know enough about them. I don't go around destroying intelligent species out of hand!"

Magus snorted. "When has sentience ever stopped you before?"

"I was tired of it!" shouted the Doctor. "Sick of the judgment, sick of the killing, sick of the eternal stench of death!"

"So by your negligence, you bestowed death upon an innocent, _sentient_ civilization!"

"I'm sorry," murmured the Doctor. "I'm sorry for their suffering, I'm sorry for your loss--but I will not bow down and take all the guilt onto my own shoulders. I spent the last part of my last life suffering over all of the choices I had made, all of the lives I couldn't save, and I nearly guilted myself into paralysis." He raised his sad, blue-green gaze to meet Magus' unhinged glare. "I too have lost people I've loved, Magus. I almost died from the grief. I crawled into myself and refused to get out of a wheelchair for weeks, until my friends shook me out of it and told me I had to go on. Someone has to do the job that I do--someone has to make the hard choices and find a way to live with it--and right now, I'm the only one who's qualified to do so. I've learned to accept my limitations and go on. I've chosen life over death."

Magus stared at him for a moment before applauding slowly. "Congratulations, Doctor, on finding your 'inner peace.' We lesser beings are happy to know that our mangled lives do not intrude upon your conscience."

"Your mockery does nothing but expose your relative youth and inexperience. Yes, you have suffered, Magus, but there is so much more to life than painful introspection and dreams of revenge. Cynicism is truly a luxury that only the young can afford."

Magus glared at him with something close to violence. "Simple words!" he hissed. "All this time I've wasted on you, and still you spout your simplistic platitudes! If I didn't need you, I would strangle you where you stand!"

At that moment, the vaulted chamber grew brighter from the glow of windows set high in the walls. The crystal arrays glowed in the dim light as if gathering energy from the rising sun.

"Daybreak!" Magus closed his mystical eyes for a moment, visibly pulling himself back under control. He turned and faced the Doctor once again. "It's time to wake my students, Doctor, and time for us to begin our task."

He approached the Doctor, holding up a small flask with a drinking tube protruding from one side. The Doctor drew back distrustfully.

"It's only water, Doctor. I cannot afford to have your mind fogged by drugs during this procedure."

The Doctor drank deeply of the cold fluid. "Thank you," he murmured gratefully.

"Enjoy it, Doctor." The black mask lifted toward the windows. "And enjoy the sunrise as well. It is the last one you will ever know."

XxX

As the morning sunlight broke through the trees overhanging the road, swirling mists rose off the dew-drenched grass, dissolving slowly in the gentle radiance. Houjun absently noted the dissipation of the mists, the soft, rhythmic thud of the horses' hooves, the creak of the saddle leather and reins. At the same time, he vaguely registered the thinning of the soft, white fog in his head, the fog that had held him and comforted him, keeping him quiet and pliant in its soothing embrace. He gradually became aware that somewhere deep inside, muted echoes of strong emotion drifted gently past his subconscious, while waves of agitation and frustration flowed to him from his companion's ki. Yet the remaining fog continued to diminish all incoming sensation, a hypnotic voice seeming to whisper, _Rest, don't worry, don't think…_

Houjun frowned to himself. Something was wrong--he knew that he was forgetting something important, but each time he tried to focus on it, the thought slipped nimbly away. Something essential, something _vital_. He finally released his conscious mind, allowing his subconscious to wander unchecked…and there it was.

A far-off yet distinct voice, singing in the dim reaches of his memory.

I remember a meadow one morning in May

He shuddered as the melody reverberated deep within him, touching him deep within his heart.

_With a sky full of dreams that sailed in that day_

The voice grew clearer, a lilting, velvet-burred tenor vibrant with emotion.

_I was dancing through green waves of grass like the sea_

Houjun's heart hammered as he reached desperately, fiercely pushing back the mental fog, knowing somehow that what he was reaching for was the truth: unsullied, pure…and real.

_For a moment in time I could feel_

_I was free..._

"Free!" he gasped , the last of the fog blowing away, the thoughts and memories crystallizing sharp, brilliant, clear. He saw it all for the first time: the strategems and schemes, circles within circles, his own place at the center--and he could almost scream at the revelation of how he had been so blind, so willfully, _obediently_ blind!

A voice interfered with his inner turmoil, recalling him back to the outside world. He startled as he realized that they had reached their destination, the last of the open road curving in the distance as it rose to meet the scarlet-painted arch before the monastery gates. Joss was speaking to him, her features dark with grim purpose, her voice uncommonly harsh. "So okay, I did what he wanted and brought you here to the monastery of Suzaku--and now I'm leaving, Houjun. I'm going back for him, 'cause I'm not leaving him in that bastard's clutches, no matter what he says! So you just stay here safe, and if I don't come back…if I don't… Well, in any case, you just stay--"

Houjun stared down the road, his gaze wide and shocked. "He lied to me. He _deceived_ me!"

Joss' eyes flashed, and she tightened her grip on her reins. "Listen, Houjun, you know that I love you, so understand where I'm coming from when I say, _GET OVER IT!_" Her enraged shout startled the birds out of the nearby trees and sent small animals diving for cover. "He's the _Doctor, _he's our friend, our savior; what difference does it make what planet he's from, or what's in his past?"

"You don't understand!" Houjun interrupted, his voice trembling. "It makes no difference at all! But he invaded my mind and tampered with my thoughts, _making_ me see him as something foreign, something _alien_--when all along, he knew, as _I_ know, that we are one!"

He focused on Joss, his eye bright with unshed tears, his voice vibrating with passion. "We _are_ one: I have slept on those hearts; in those arms, I have found comfort and warmth. He has been my salvation in every way possible--and even now, he's pushed me away to protect me, shielding me as if I were a child, as if I were _his_--!" He caught his breath, his jaw tightening as he fought for control. "But I'm no child. For the first time, I know exactly who and what I am, and I know who is pulling the strings here--as do you!"

He leaped off his horse and pulled Joss off her mount, grasping her by the shoulders. "All this time--all this time, I thought that my god had denied me, when in truth it was me who was denying _him!_" He shook Joss in agitation. "_Tell_ me! Tell me the truth! Suzaku is the one behind all this! He's the one who brought the Doctor here, isn't he? _ISN'T HE?"_

_"Yes!"_ Joss shouted back. "Yes, he's the one! But the Doctor insisted that I keep it from you, though I don't understand why."

"I know why! It's because Suzaku was afraid that I would do _this!"_ He released his iron grip on Joss' shoulders and raised his hand to the sky, pointing defiantly into the heavens. "I won't accept this, Suzaku! I won't accept his life in exchange for mine! If I'm so damn important to you…if I'm so _necessary_ to your celestial schemes that you would bring him in to rescue me, then you can damn well give me the power I need to rescue _him_! Do you hear me, Suzaku? I WILL NOT ALLOW THIS SACRIFICE!"

The sky was clear and cloudless, yet suddenly it seemed as if lightning arced across its azure dome. A faint scent of ozone wafted down to the two figures below. Houjun's eye grew bright with determination. "It's time!" He tossed Joss back up into her saddle and grabbed her reins.

Scant minutes later, they galloped through the gates of the monastery into the wide courtyard, sparks flying from their horses' hooves as they clattered against the paving stones. Groups of monks and acolytes looked up from their morning tasks and lessons, startled at the harsh intrusion into their quiet morning routine.

Houjun swung off his horse and grabbed the nearest monk, a thin, nervous sort clutching an armful of scrolls. "Send your acolytes to bring out your two fastest horses! _Hayaku, shiro!"_

The monk nearly dropped his scrolls in agitation. "But…but…I must consult the Master!" He signaled two young shaven-headed acolytes, who promptly ran off toward the dim interior of the main building.

"I have no time for this!" Houjun roared, shaking the terrified monk. "Horses, _ima!"_

Joss jumped off her mount and laid a restraining hand on Houjun's arm. "Houjun, you're scaring the shit outta him! We're never gonna get the horses if he keels over from a heart-attack."

The other monks and acolytes were gathering around, drawn by the shouts. One of the older monks took in Houjun's slashed face and simple peasant clothes, as well as Joss' rough appearance. "You there, bandits!" he called. "We are men of peace, in service to Suzaku. Be on your way!"

Houjun drew himself up with intimidating dignity. "It is in the name of Suzaku that I call upon you! Do you know what this means?"

Pulling his dagger out of his belt, he slashed at the knee of his trousers, parting the material. The sign of _cho_ blazed out, the brilliant scarlet kanji piercingly bright even against the glow of morning light. Some of the acolytes held up their hands to shield their eyes, murmuring in wonder and disbelief.

"Yes, we do, Celestial Warrior Chichiri." The voice was rich and full of laughter.

Houjun whirled around to see a man standing behind him, leaning heavily on his shakujou. He was prematurely aged, clutching the staff with hands knotted with arthritis. Although he was stooped, his back curving from the disease, Houjun could tell that he had been a tall man. The man's face was brown and weathered with deep lines of both laughter and pain, yet his eyes were bright and lively, snapping with youthful interest.

Houjun flushed, suddenly mindful of his coarse manners in the presence of one whose ki glowed with deep wisdom. He bowed deeply before the Master. "_Gomen nasai_," he began.

"There is no need to apologize," interrupted the Master, his eyes tilted up in amusement. He waved a hand at the two young acolytes who escorted him, and they took off at a run toward the stables, their sandals slapping against the smooth grey stones. "Nor did you need to damage your clothing. Our assistance is available to the worthy traveler in need; it is not necessary to be one of the Chosen of Suzaku."

Houjun bowed deeply again, in gratitude for the Master's generosity and also in acknowledgement of the gentle rebuke. The nervous monk whom he had assaulted crept up, seeking shelter behind the Master's robes.

Less than ten minutes later, the travelers were mounted on fresh horses and galloping west as if they were racing the sun itself. The Master gazed after them, raising one hand to his face in a silent blessing. The nervous monk still hovered near him, clutching the scrolls to his chest. "It's difficult to believe," he ventured hesitantly.

"Hai, very true, Yutaka-san. Faith is the end of a long, hard journey, not the gift given freely at the beginning."

"No, Master, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that it's difficult to believe that one such as he," Yutaka gestured jerkily at the clouds of dust rising from the road, "is destined to…to become one of us."

The Master's eyes crinkled. "Ah, Yutaka-san, I recall another young man who many years ago strode boldly through these very gates, a young man just as impulsive, outspoken and passionate as Suzaku no Chichiri."

Yutaka-san gaped in shock. "Surely you are not speaking of me, Master!"

"No." The Master grinned widely, the years suddenly falling away from him, so that he looked as vital and vibrant as a man in his prime. "I was speaking of myself!"

XxX

The horses pulled up at the last rise before the school, their sides foamy with sweat and heaving from exertion. Joss stood in her stirrups, her hand shielding her eyes against the gold and crimson beams of the setting sun. "There!" She pointed to a copse of trees slightly northeast of the shimmering cloaking shield. "We'll leave the horses there and approach the rest of the way on foot."

Houjun looked at her grinning at him, her cheeks flushed from their long, frantic ride, her hair dancing in wild unruly waves around her face--and felt something catch in his heart. Where did she find the strength to smile at him, after all that he had done to her? He caught her reins as she began to turn away. "You really are the most extraordinary woman."

She flashed another grin at him. "'Bout time you noticed me again," she retorted boldly, hiding the pain that lurked behind her eyes.

Houjun swallowed. "No, I mean it. Here we are about to walk into mortal danger--and I can feel all this energy, all of this _joy_ radiating off you." His admiration vibrated in his tones. "Your courage is unbelievable!"

Joss laughed, this time without any shadows in her eyes. "It's not courage, Houjun; I'm really, truly happy right now. For the first time since they took you from me, I _know_ that I'm on the right path. Because no matter what happens in there, in the end we three will be together again--and as the Doctor says, 'That's as it should be!'"

His glance returned to the mystically hidden school, as he once more focused on their objective. "Yes, that's as it should be--and that's as it _shall_ be," he vowed softly, his gaze dark with intent.

Not long afterward, he and Joss were moving swiftly through the strangely deserted corridors of the school, clad in student cloaks that they had taken from an open classroom. Houjun kept his focus turned inward, tracking the faint ki forces he could feel emanating from some far distant corner of the compound, while Joss peered anxiously around the edge of her hood for possible ambushes. They reached a large vaulted antechamber far at the back of the school, with several doors leading from the room, one of which was set in a rounded wall at the far end. Houjun frowned at the access to a tower he had never seen before.

"I don't know," he murmured, troubled. "This seems almost too easy."

"Perhaps not as easy as you think."

Joss whirled around at the familiar mocking tones. Kurayami glided into view from the shadows at one end of the room, the last rays of the sun shining though the windows and staining her pale, unmasked features with blood-red light. Farther back in the shadows a figure stirred, and Joss realized Maboroshi lurked in the darkness there.

"Back so soon, Shouryuu? Did you miss Maboroshi that much?" Kurayami's rasping voice dripped with false solicitude. Maboroshi moved forward, helplessly drawn into the open, his dark-encircled eyes fixing on Houjun with a yearning, hungry light. Houjun ignored him as he pulled back his hood, lifting his ash staff before him and fixing Kurayami with a cold and silent stare.

"I'm sorry to tell you," Kurayami continued, licking at the words like poisoned honey, "that I've found him a replacement plaything: your friend, the Doctor. However, considering the mindless husk he'll be once Magus is finished with him, I'd say that your chances with Maboroshi are still fairly good." Her feral smile exposed her small, pointed teeth.

At that moment, something echoed faintly in the distance. Joss couldn't make out what it was, but Houjun went rigid with rage, his eye growing dark and his jaw twitching.

Kurayami crowed in delight. "Did you hear that? After all these hours, I didn't think that he had any screams left! But don't worry," the predatory smile widened as she glided closer to Houjun, "I'm certain that it's his last one!"

"Get out of my way." The words were icy calm, crystallized rage.

"Or you'll do what? Scream? Cry?" Kurayami abandoned her mockery, her voice sharpening into viciousness. "Make love to a _corpse?"_

"Fuck you, _BITCH!_"

Kurayami's attention snapped to her one-time attacker. "You die now!" she hissed, sending mystical black spears blasting toward Joss.

The ash staff spun before Joss, easily deflecting the attack. Houjun spoke once again in that eerily calm and icy voice. "_I_ am your opponent, Kurayami--and you have just forfeited your life." He raised two fingers vertically before his face, chanting in an arcane, guttural tongue.

"We'll see whose life is forfeit!" sneered Kurayami, but she quickly raised her own hand, chanting her own spell.

The two magicians circled the room slowly, constantly keeping the other before them as they moved in a strange, ominous dance. The last of the daylight retreated from the chamber, and magical torches flared in its absence, illuminating the room in a flickering yellow glow. As the chants progressed, Joss saw darkness snaking up through Houjun's form, threading through his clothes, his hair, his face until his features were lost in shadow. Only his eye was visible, aflame with a fiery scarlet light, while more scarlet flames began dancing along the outlines of his form.

Joss fought down her shudders. It was one thing to read about his dark powers in a book and quite another to see them with her own eyes. There was something terrible about witnessing the transformation of the gentle, strong man she loved into this inhuman, demonic thing that muttered in strange tongues as it summoned its killing power. In a way she was less frightened of Kurayami, who had undergone the same transformation; demonic killer seemed her natural state.

Suddenly she saw Kurayami gesture to the shadows, beckoning Maboroshi. He moved forward reluctantly, his green eyes bright with tears, yet he obediently lifted one hand to his face and began muttering the same spells. A stream of darkness began to flow from him to join that surrounding Kurayami.

"No fair! Two against one!" shouted Joss. The darkness that was Houjun raised one hand to silence her--then began rotating the ash staff in a figure eight around his form. His guttural tones grew stronger, darker, and a mystical wind sprang up, ruffling his shadowed cloak and hair. The darkness began to move, swirling around him in a slow vortex. His scarlet eye suddenly blazed at Maboroshi, and the ash staff swung toward the boy in a hooking motion, catching his darkness and drawing it away from Kurayami into the growing black vortex.

The expanding cyclone began growling in a low roar, and Joss shrank back against the stone walls as she felt its evil winds brush past her. Suddenly, Kurayami darted at Houjun, her shadowed hands clawing at the power flowing from the staff, but he was ready for her, twisting easily out of her reach. She backed away in frustration as the darkness around Houjun grew more intense. Joss could see the rage written clearly on her exposed features, and blinked as she realized that the shadows were pulling away from Kurayami, flowing out to join the cyclone spinning in time with Houjun's staff.

In the next moment, Kurayami realized that she was being stripped of her powers. She lifted her hand to her face, her yellow eyes widening in terror--then turned and tried to run from the room, her feet thumping awkwardly on the floor.

It was too late.

Houjun caught his ash staff, stopping its rotations and flinging the black cyclone at the fleeing form of Kurayami. The darkness was pulled from his features, caught in the evil winds of the killing force as it roared toward the terror-stricken sorceress. "_Shi NE!"_ His voice rose in a rasping snarl thick with hatred, mystically rising above the deafening roar of the cyclone as it caught Kurayami up in its savage embrace.

Joss covered her ears at the inhuman shrieks, howls and yelps that issued from the demonic magician as she was cut again and again by the sorcerous razor winds. Blood spattered on the ceiling of the chamber, and she looked up, her eyes wide as she thought she saw a sapphire light descending out of nowhere into the vortex. But she couldn't be certain, for in the next moment, Houjun snapped up his staff, and the vortex disappeared.

The small form of Kurayami thumped down onto the cold, grey floor, her flesh and clothing in tatters. Houjun spared her not a single glance as he turned away. The shadows had disappeared from his body, but his eye and form flared bright with scarlet fire. He stalked over to Maboroshi, who cowered fearfully against one wall, and yanked the boy out into the open by the collar of his cloak.

"As for you," he intoned, his voice still reverberating with icy rage, "run far and run fast--for if I ever see you again, I _will_ kill you!" With that, he spun on his heel, his cloak swirling around him as he strode toward the tower door.

Maboroshi stood in place for a moment, his features crumpling in grief, before running sobbing from the room. Joss turned to follow Houjun but hesitated one moment longer, darting over to look down at the crumpled, pathetic form of Kurayami.

She turned the body over with her foot, noting that the narrow yellow eyes had rolled up into the woman's head, then knelt before the tattered form, bending close as if to breathe a prayer. "Sucks to be you, bitch!" she whispered…then turned and left the room.

XxX

In the vaulted chamber cut deep into the hillside, a chorus of chants rose and fell from the students gathered beneath the array of crystals. Magus moved from one instrument to another, checking the level of psychic power flowing toward the focusing dais, being drawn together and amplified by his half-human prism.

He glanced up at the form of the Doctor where he hung in his restraints, his silk shirt torn nearly off his shoulders by the force of his futile struggles. It was nearing the end, and after that final scream, the Doctor hung quiet and motionless, a single drop of blood trickling from one ear, then stopping. His head drooped, the brown-gold waves hanging lifelessly before him, veiling his pale face.

Magus breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping absently at drops of moisture that trickled from beneath his mask. It was better this way; with the Doctor unconscious and near death, his students would no longer be unnerved by his screams.

One more--just one more blast of psychic energy from the focal crystals above the Doctor's head, and all signals would be on their way to the other dimension, bursting like fireworks in the detection systems of the Swarm. The power surge would be the final step in the destruction of the Doctor's cerebral cortex, of course, but that was only what he deserved…wasn't it? Magus frowned at his trembling hand as it hesitated over the control. What was wrong with him? Wasn't this the moment he had planned for, schemed for, imagined for more years than he wanted to remember?

At that moment, an alarm sounded in one of his psychic flow meters. He looked up at the display, stunned to see that the flow of background psychic energy was growing, expanding, becoming more and more intense with each passing second. He looked over at the group of students in confusion, but their chants remained unaltered. Could it be one last surge of energy from the Doctor? The time lord appeared to be spent, but--no. No, that wasn't it. The Doctor's thin trickle of psychic energy still registered on the analog wave detector, twisting in its helical pattern in the glass vessel,but now the entire vessel was glowing, awash with power beyond any that Magus had ever seen before. The needles on the psychic flow meters chattered, vibrating wildly as they went off scale.

At that moment, the glass vessel exploded--and the alloy door at the top of the chamber slammed open with a reverberating, gonging boom. Magus held up a hand to shield his eyes from the scarlet fire that streamed into the chamber from the doorway above.

A figure stood in the midst of the blazing light, a mystical wind ruffling his bangs so that the hair stood up like the crest of a phoenix. A staff was thrust out before him, and a cloak swirled about him--and strangest of all, two huge feathered wings of scarlet light lifted from his shoulders, glowing as they spread wide in fierce challenge.

"Shouryuu?" Magus choked in disbelief.

"I am Suzaku no Seishi Chichiri!"

The voice reverberated through the entire chamber, ringing with the celestial wrath of an avenging angel.

"And I Have Come

For

My

Friend!"

XxX

XxX

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Fusege! - Block it!

Hanase, ima! - Release, now!

Hayaku, shiro! - Do it fast!

Gomen nasai - I'm sorry (polite form)

Shi NE! - DIE!

XxX

**Author's notes: (1-20-04)** Roku pushes back from the keyboard…and smiles.


	18. A light in the darkness

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical selection: "Cursum Perficio" by Enya from her CD "Watermark," Reprise Records, 1989.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to my amazing beta readers, Ryuen and Purple Mouse. You have my deepest gratitude--and as many obscene wasabi sculptures as I can create! :P

XxX

**  
Chapter 18. A Light in the Darkness**

Magus stared up at the glowing figure in the doorway, its power blazing forth in crackling rays of psychic energy. He instinctively shielded his own psi centers from the blinding effects of this force, but he couldn't take his eyes from the winged form. A feeling of triumph welled up from deep within, making him want to shout in fierce joy. He had been _right!_ All along, he had been right about Shouryuu, and now here his protege stood, radiating power at levels of near invincible proportions!

At that moment, one lone meter monitoring the Doctor's slumped form fell to zero and began trilling a faint alarm. Magus failed to notice it--and also failed to notice the scarlet fire in his student's eye as Shouryuu's head turned in the direction of the motionless captive. Magus surged forward, his only thought to reach Shouryuu, embrace him in joy at the fulfillment of his life's purpose! It was only when he heard Shouryuu's howl of rage and felt a powerful force blast into him, flinging him back against the stone wall, that he realized his mistake--the one miscalculation in his entire intricate plan.

XxX

Joss raced up the last steps of the tower staircase, following the echo of Houjun's enraged shout. She nearly skidded into him as he stood blocking a vast doorway.

"What the--?" She stared at the light shining from his shoulder blades, somehow refracted to resemble two giant scarlet wings, radiant, transparent, the light pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She hung back for a moment, uncertain, but as Houjun surged forward, she darted up to join him, breaking through the light-wings to reach his side--

--and almost plunging off the open landing into the chamber below, stopped only by his arm seizing her by the waist. She barely had time to register this fact before he transported them to the floor of the chamber. Her gaze was caught at first by the elaborate crystal array but tracked swiftly downward to focus on the Doctor bound to the crossbars beneath. She struggled out of Houjun's grasp, her cry of outrage drowned out by a furiously barked spell from Houjun. The restraints and wires hummed with tension before bursting apart, releasing the Doctor to fall lifelessly out of their grasp, his body propelled through the air to be caught by Houjun in a fierce embrace. The Doctor's head rested against Houjun's neck, his golden-brown waves hanging over his eyes, his silk shirt torn open over his chest--and Joss choked back a sob as she noted his broken stillness, the alabaster whiteness of his skin.

Movement from the far end of the chamber caught her attention--and Houjun's.

"_Fusege!_" he snarled, making a slashing gesture with his staff. The students who had attempted to flee the chamber stood frozen in place, their eyes wide and frightened.

Joss blinked at this harsh treatment. "Houjun, listen--"

He ignored her protest, turning away, his attention now riveted on the Doctor lying motionless in his arms. "Joss, he's not breathing!" He lowered the Doctor to the floor and pressed his ear against the time lord's chest. Joss darted to the Doctor's side, grasping his wrist and feeling desperately for a pulse. Their eyes met, stricken, as the magician's scarlet-winged aura faded in the face of his panic.

"Joss, that thing--when we pulled Shun'u from the lake!"

"CPR, but I don't know how we'll--he has _two_ hearts!"

"We have to try!"

Joss gritted her teeth. "You take the left, I'll take the right, and press--wait, together or alternating? Damn it! Let's try alternating!"

They pressed on each side of the Doctor's chest five times in succession, then took turns blowing into his mouth. His chest rose and fell but only with their exhalations. They continued with the CPR, going on and on until Joss lost all track of time, her universe narrowed to one tiny window.

Push-two-three-four-five.

Press mouth to those soft, cold lips and blow.

_Come on, Doctor. Give us some help here. Breathe. Stop looking so_…

Fight back despair and start again.

Push-two-three-four-five.

Blow.

Ignore the pain of aching muscles. Focus past blurred vision. Turn eyes away from that ashen face, that unnatural stillness. Push-two-three-four-five.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Finally Joss paused to wipe sweat out of her eyes. She touched Houjun's arm. "Did you try…can you feel--?"

Houjun met her gaze, and Joss sucked in a breath at the searing pain in his eye, pain laced with terror. He _hadn't_ checked for the Doctor's ki, because he was afraid to look, afraid to find--

"You have to," she whispered. "We have to know."

The magician turned from her, hunching his shoulders, then reached out a trembling hand and placed two fingers on the Doctor's right temple. Joss waited as Houjun closed his eye in concentration for several seconds before drawing back, jerking his head to one side in denial. He reached out again, this time with both hands, grasping the Doctor's head between both palms. Joss held her breath as the seconds ticked by, stretching out into one minute…two--

Finally Houjun pulled back, panting with exertion. Joss pulled hard on his arm until he turned his face to her, until she looked into his eye and saw…

An ocean of grief. A bottomless well of raw, screaming loss.

"Oh, no," she moaned, covering her mouth with both hands as if she could obliterate the truth by choking off her cries. They _couldn't_ be too late! It wasn't fair; this wasn't the way the story was supposed to end!

"_No!_" Houjun had turned from her, his tormented cry echoing her thoughts. He struck the Doctor in the chest with both fists, continuing with four more blows in succession, then desperately pressed his mouth against those pale lips, exhaling strongly. He blew into the Doctor's mouth again--and again--and again. Finally he stopped, his lips moving against the time lord's in some silent, anguished prayer.

Through her sobs, Joss began to discern soft words. "Please," Houjun whispered against the cold, unresponsive lips, "don't do this, Doctor. Don't leave me. I understand now, don't you see? I know who I am, but--I still need you. I'm not ready to let you go yet. I'm not--" His voice broke at last.

Joss rocked herself in grief, her every breath a soft, keening cry. It shouldn't be possible to live through this kind of agony, she thought. Pain like this should kill you where you stood. It should choke off your breath and stop your heart, instead of leaving you alive, gasping, wondering how you would endure the next second, the next minute--

How _could_ she endure it? Oh, gods, how could _he_ endure it, after everything that he had suffered? What would this final, devastating loss do to him?

Something stirred in the corner of her tear-blurred vision. Houjun had lifted his head from the Doctor's chest and pushed to his feet so that he was now standing next to his friend's body. His eye gleamed with a cold, bitter light as he looked around the darkened chamber, his gaze sliding past Magus' crumpled form and finally fixing on the students trembling in one corner.

Through the throbbing ache in her head and heart, Joss wondered dully what he was doing. She squinted at him, trying to make out his expression in the gathering gloom. It wasn't until his eye suddenly shone with a feral red light that she realized that the darkness was coming not from outside, but from _within_ him--and she knew exactly what he was going to do.

XxX

Houjun stood in the center of a whirling maelstrom of darkness, buffeted by the punishing winds. In the distance, he could make out a huddled group of people, their features shadowed but their voices rising above the roaring in his ears, hurling taunts of savage glee.

_"You're not even a real man!"_

_"Aren't you the ugly one, hiding the deformed freak you really are!"_

_"How can a half-man like you even protect anyone?"_

_"You're nobody, belonging to no one…"_

Straining to hear past the mockery and the roaring winds, he tried to focus on that one voice, the one anchor in his entire mad existence. He reached into the darkness with outstretched hands, hoping to feel the warm grip of strong hands pulling him back into the light.

Nothing. No one. Nothing but the shrieking laughter of the shadowed forms before him.

The darkness took hold of him. He tilted his head back and closed his eye, finding chill comfort in its vile embrace, letting the ravaging power fill him one last time.

So be it. Let it all end. Let his tormentors know what it felt like, to be…

Him.

He raised his gaze, feeling cold fire blaze from his eye. "He's dead," he remarked softly, almost conversationally. "But you already knew that, didn't you? After all, you were the ones who…" His voice dropped into a cold hiss, "…killed him!"

The shadows seemed to shrink back at the fury in his voice, but he couldn't be certain, because everything was veiled in murky gloom. It didn't matter; he could see well enough to locate his target--and his weapon. He lifted his ash staff, casually hooking the darkness that swirled around him, spinning it and molding its evil winds to his command. "You made one fatal mistake in your mission to destroy us. When you killed him, you left me with nothing. Nothing to live for--nothing to lose. And now…now I will show you what nothingness truly is!"

His voice grew harsh, chanting rough, guttural words in time with the rotations of his staff. He thought that he could hear sobbing cries from the shadows, but they were swept away in the growing roar of the developing cyclone.

Suddenly a flash of gold streaked through the darkness around him. He frowned, momentarily distracted. What was it--and where--? It flashed again, now pulsing with energy, growing and expanding until it pushed at the shadows whirling around him. He slowed the spinning of the staff, his chants faltering in the face of his bewilderment.

The brightness flared, tearing at the tendrils of the cyclone, dispersing its darkness. He placed a hand up to shield his eye from the painful light. An aura? That was what it was: a shining, golden aura, glowing with pure, untainted trust. Strange, yet infinitely familiar.

A voice suddenly rose above the grumble of the dying winds, a voice reverberating with conviction.

"Suzaku no Chichiri! Hear me! Stop this at once!"

Houjun choked, catching his staff and fighting the nausea that flooded through him at the abrupt interruption of the soul-destroying spell. At that moment, the winds parted, allowing him to glimpse the quiet, broken body of his friend, lying in the dust, unmoving….

Rage seized him again, and he lifted his staff in defiance. "They killed him!"

"They didn't know what they were doing! They're just kids, Houjun!" The golden light stood between him and the shadows, the center of the aura darkening so that the form within it grew distinct. Short dark hair curling in wild waves, brown eyes shining with tears, chin jutting out and arms outstretched as if she could deflect death by the power of her will alone. "If you want to kill them, you're going to have to kill me first!"

"Joss," Houjun whispered, feeling the darkness retreat before the force of her light.

"Houjun, listen to me! Just look at them_; look_ at them!"

He lifted his gaze, trying to see through the fading shadows. There they were: not a faceless, taunting crowd, but young students frozen in a terrified huddle after his earlier spell, some sobbing while others fixed him with fearful glares. His peers, the magicians he had studied with and tutored, nearly destroyed by him in a moment of mindless rage. The nausea welled up in him again, and he choked out, "_Hanase, ima!"_

Some of the youths collapsed into the arms of their friends at the sudden release, while others bolted towards the stairway. Not a single student approached Houjun or even dared to raise their eyes to him.

Houjun stood alone, the bitterly familiar feeling of self-hatred sucking the ground from beneath his feet. He closed his eye, wanting the darkness to swallow him, wanting it to suck the life and pain and grief from his body. How many times in the past two years had he wished for oblivion? When would Suzaku relent and free him from the torment of this existence?

At that moment, he felt a hand on his arm. He looked down into brown eyes that reflected his own pain yet brimmed with compassion and a deeper emotion that he didn't dare to name. What could he do for her? He was lost…and she was lost with him. They were stranded in a barren place, pain and grief stretching into the distance as far as they could see.

She stiffened suddenly, her hand tightening on his arm, her eyes looking past him. Before he turned around, before he heard a single sound, he already knew. He _knew._

"Shouryuu," rumbled the deep, familiar voice.

XxX

Houjun stood very still, clamping down on every thought, every emotion. And then, slowly--very slowly--he turned towards Magus.

His voice was soft and icy. "I do not answer to that name any longer."

"So what shall I call you? Ri Houjun?"

"That name is for use only by my friends."

The mystical eyes behind the black mask glittered with amusement, seemingly unaware of the rising tension in the young magician's stance. Behind them, Joss was frantically pushing the remaining students towards the stairway, hissing at them to flee the school and never look back.

Magus thoughtfully rubbed a finger along the edge of his mask. "So that leaves only…Celestial Warrior Chichiri, am I right?"

"If you like." Houjun moved towards Magus, holding his staff loosely, almost casually. "I thought you might have died."

"Apparently not, as you can see."

"Then there is no justice in this world!" spat Houjun, his sudden rage sending scarlet flames dancing along his form.

"I could have told you as much, Chichiri. There is no justice anywhere in this universe, other than that which we make ourselves."

"You would not like my justice!"

Magus raised his hands, not in self-defense or conciliation, but almost as if he wished to touch the flaming aura of his former pupil. "Such power," he breathed. "Such intensity and force, beyond my most ambitious projections. Together we will achieve greatness! Together we shall--"

His words were cut off by a telekinetic burst hitting him like a back-handed slap. He staggered back under the assault, retaining his footing with difficulty.

"You _dare!"_ snarled Houjun. "You dare recruit me for your demented ambitions, while the body of the man you killed lies in the dust behind me!"

Magus looked past Houjun to the crumpled figure on the ground, a bowed figure kneeling at his side. Joss had somehow retrieved the Doctor's discarded velvet coat and was covering him as if to shield him from the chill of the stone floor. With blind, faltering motions, she smoothed his chestnut curls and pulled his shirt closed, as if she could fix his broken body with these simple, loving gestures. The lamplight caught the glimmer of teardrops as they fell to the ground: an endless, grieving rain.

For a moment, waves of weariness and regret seemed to waft from the black, enigmatic mask--but Magus straightened, his form infused with renewed purpose. "In the war against evil, there are always necessary sacrifices." He raised his arm abruptly, deflecting another of Houjun's psi assaults. "Will you continue to carry on in this infantile manner? You waste our time with these crude attacks, while the fate of millions hangs in the balance! There are greater consequences at stake than the life of any one man."

"Not for me." Houjun lowered his staff, bringing himself back under control. "When you killed him, you made yourself my eternal enemy. There will be no peace between us--ever. Not even for the sake of these supposed millions."

"_'Supposed'_ millions? Do you imagine that I am joking about the threat to this world?"

"Not joking, but…you're hiding something. I can sense it in your ki." Raising two fingers before his face, Houjun's eye narrowed in concentration as he faced his former master. Magus held up a hand as if to deflect Houjun's probing mind, beads of sweat dripping from beneath his mask. Finally he stumbled back, hissing in pain.

Houjun lowered his hand, his face pale and drawn. "There is no threat! None except that which you would bring upon us yourself." He shook his head in disbelief. "You are insane! I can't read your motives, but…it means nothing to you, to kill a man--or two or a _hundred_--as long as you achieve your objective!"

Magus breathed heavily, wiping the back of one hand across his chin. "You dare to violate my mind in that way? You forget your place, Shouryuu!"

"I have no place, Magus. We are no longer teacher and student, master and apprentice. We are only two sworn enemies, unrelentingly opposed."

Magus stepped closer to Houjun, his stance aggressive, provocative. "So what do you mean to do: kill me? It may not be as easy as you think, unless you truly have forgotten that I am the one who has taught you all you know."

"Not all that I know; not by half." Houjun's mouth twisted in bitterness. "Even so--as much as some dark part of me desperately yearns for your death--I will not kill you. He wouldn't want that; it wasn't his way. And if I am to honor him…" The young magician swallowed hard, fighting for control. "No, I won't kill you--but I _will_ stop you."

With that, he raised his ash staff, intoning a command. A ball of light shot from the end of the staff, exploding against a panel of blinking consoles. Sparks fountained up towards the domed ceiling as electronic alarms screeched and smoke poured from the damaged consoles.

"Stop this madness!" shrieked Magus, diving at the consoles as if he could shield them with his body. Another console across the chamber went up in flames. "_No!_ Don't you understand? You're destroying our one defense against the Swarm!"

"We don't need this defense! Not if I prevent you from bringing the evil here in the first place."

Magus roared in frustration as yet another console fell to Houjun's fury. Suddenly he raised his hand to his mask and snarled out a command. Houjun threw up a defense spell just in time, but he still staggered back under the force of Magus' assault.

Houjun barked out another spell, pointing his staff at another instrument, but Magus countered almost immediately, throwing forth a barrier spell. He instantly followed up with another attack spell against Houjun, once again narrowly deflected in time.

The two magicians prowled back and forth, flinging out attacks and counterattacks, setting the chamber alight with showers of sparks. Joss remained crouched over the Doctor, blindly shielding his body from the battle, staying silent to keep from distracting Houjun.

Magus finally paused and leaned against a console wearily. "This is utter lunacy! We should be joined in a common cause, not battling one another."

"There is no cause, not as long as I have the power to stop you."

"Then be certain that you do!" Magus suddenly pulled a lever on the console. The entire chamber seemed to tilt, sending Houjun skidding back across the floor, as Joss lost her balance and sprawled on the ground. At the same time, Magus flung a flurry of attacks at the younger magician. Houjun rasped out a barrier spell, recoiling from the percussive blows of Magus' multi-faceted assault. A strange wheezing, groaning noise resounded off the dome of the chamber, and the vast room vibrated from some unseen force.

"Houjun, look!" He jumped up at Joss' shout, only to see Magus standing at the console nearest the focusing crystal, his hands flying over the board like those of a mad musician. Houjun hurled another assault, which bounced harmlessly off a transparent barrier surrounding Magus and his control board.

"You have talent, Chichiri, but you lack experience! Observe your master--and learn!"

The dome began to crack open with a tremendous scraping groan. Just as the night sky became visible, a focused beam of psychic energy shot forth from the collection reservoir, striking the crystal array, which sang out a clear, resonating note in response. A ray of light flashed from the crystals high into the night sky, flaring up in spectral colors, alien blue shading into green. Houjun felt his heart drop, the light piercing his eye like the Doctor's mystical gaze.

The dome slid closed with the same metallic groan, shutting out the sky and leaving the inhabitants of the chamber in silence.

Magus raised a shaking hand to his mask. "It's done," he whispered. "The signal has been sent, and the battle is now engaged."

XxX

Houjun stood frozen in the midst of the chamber, feeling the darkness take hold of him. "_Failure,"_ his inner voice whispered, not mocking this time but merely sad. _"You've failed again, as you always do. How shall you fail him next?" _In his mind, he saw the Doctor fix him with one last look of disappointment before turning away and disappearing into the mists.

"No!" he cried softly, his voice barely audible even in the silence. "NO!"

"It's too late, Chichiri. The only thing we can do now is join together--my knowledge and your power--and defeat the evil for all time!" Magus' voice was suffused with triumph, but beneath the surface ran a darker note, a tone that vibrated with something close to grief.

Houjun was too caught up in despair to notice. His mind whirled, buffeted by conflicting thoughts and emotions, until he thought he might go mad. At that moment, he felt a presence beside him, a warm hand slipping into his, grounding him, steadying him. He focused on brown eyes looking up at him, dark with conviction. She gave one brief nod in acknowledgment, as if to say, _'What you will.'_

He clenched his jaw and turned back to Magus. "No."

"Is that all you can say? You have no choice! You will join me in this battle, or you will condemn this planet to annihilation!"

"No. I will not be your tool. Not for anything. I refuse to betray him."

"This isn't about him! This is about your _own_ _world_, which you will abandon to its destruction rather than swallow your pride!"

"I'm not the one who has brought peril to my world. Nor will I abandon her in her darkest hour. I'll fight for her and for my people with whatever celestial powers Suzaku has granted me. But those powers are not for your use, Magus."

Magus snarled in frustration. "Your imaginary god will not help you! You are doomed to fail without my knowledge and technology. Tell me something, _Celestial Warrior_ Chichiri! How many of your people have to die before you relinquish your misplaced loyalty? The Doctor is _dead!_ He has no part in your life any longer!"

Houjun slammed his staff into the floor in rage. "You know nothing! You understand _nothing!_ What can you know of loyalty or loss, or… This is all a game of win-and-lose to you, isn't it? You didn't hesitate once at the thought of my people when you chose this world for your battleground, yet now you have the utter arrogance to accuse _me_ of failing them! Why in all the Hells would I or my _imaginary_ god trust you for even a heartbeat?"

"I offer you and your planet salvation, and you throw it back in my face! Why do you _refuse_ to understand?"

"It's you who refuses to understand!" Houjun lowered his voice, but his quiet words burned with intensity. "If I stood on the precipice of Hell itself, with all the demons of this world and the next howling for my blood--I still would not take your hand, not for my life or immortal soul."

The black-gloved fist smashed down on the console. Magus turned, his masked visage fixing its glittering gaze on the silent woman standing beside Houjun. "And what of you, girl? You've traveled from another world with the Doctor; can you convince this celestial warrior of what his rejection means?"

"You just don't get it, do you, Magus?" Joss' voice was soft with contempt. "You come in here, throw your weight around and manipulate us, endanger this entire planet, then top it off by murdering the one man who might have been able to sort this mess out--and you wonder why we don't trust you? Sure, maybe we won't have as much technical know-how without you, but at least we won't have to watch our backs every second."

Magus stiffened as if struck by the simple honesty of Joss' words. He raised one shaking hand to his mask. "So that's how it must be," he whispered. "Congratulations, Doctor. Even from beyond the grave, you tighten your grip on my throat. Well-played, I should say. But as I told you before, my life means nothing to me; only my mission matters." He lifted his enigmatic visage toward Joss and raised his voice. "I accept your terms. The technology you require is all around you, young woman, and I'm certain that you're familiar enough with the symbiotic intelligence of the Doctor's TARDIS to deduce how to access the necessary files. I will leave you to your defense with no fear of my interference."

Joss blinked. "Actually, I've never…."

"What are you talking about, Magus? Do you expect us to believe that you will voluntarily leave and refrain from manipulating this situation that you have created? You expect us to _trust_ you on your word?"

"No, I expect nothing of the sort from you, Chichiri. I expect that nothing short of my death will convince you. So do it. Take your vengeance for the Doctor--but make sure that you wreak _my_ vengeance on the Swarm."

"You're mad!" Houjun whispered, his face pale. "You want me to kill you in cold blood?"

"You were willing enough to do it scant minutes ago. Does it matter if it's in cold blood or burning rage? I'll be just as dead either way. Does my willingness to be a sacrifice to my cause make your vengeance any less sweet?"

"As I told you before, I'm no longer a pawn to be manipulated. You think you're cornering me by giving me two choices: cooperate with you or kill you. Well, there's a third choice. I can just walk away and leave you to your fate."

"No, you CAN'T!" Magus roared in fury. "That is the one thing you _cannot_ do! You cannot allow _THEM_ to win!" He rushed from behind the console, but Houjun held up his staff in a warding gesture.

Magus stopped short of attacking Houjun, bunching his fists in rage. "You think I'm lying to manipulate you, that I don't want you to kill me? You think this life _means_ anything to me? The only reason for my continued existence is to assure the annihilation of the Swarm--and if their annihilation comes at the cost of my life, then I will welcome it as a long-overdue release!"

He raised his hands to his mask, grasping the edges with trembling fingers. "You stand there and tell me that I know nothing of loyalty or loss! You think that _you_ know pain and self-hatred, because of the death of your friend--and yet you still sleep when you're weary, eat when you're hungry, find comfort with your friends! Do you think that _you_ are scarred from your experiences? Let me show you a face scarred by _Hell!"_

With that, Magus threw back his hood and ripped away his mask. Joss cried out involuntarily, while Houjun lowered his staff with trembling hands.

Waves of dark hair tumbled across the man's forehead, standing out against pale skin and middle-aged features that would have been handsome--except for the scars. Four deep furrows on each cheek, running from just beneath his eyes to above his jawline, the skin inflamed, swollen, caked with dried blood. Blue eyes red-rimmed with grief and exhaustion glared out at them, unfocused with rage.

"Do you see it now?" Magus' voice was a hissing challenge. "Do you see what it's like to survive THEM? Each time I close my eyes, each time exhaustion takes me against my will, I relive the nightmare yet again. I see my wife and son screaming in agony at their disfigurement at the hands of the Swarm; I feel the stick heavy in my grasp, and the dull, wet impact as I strike them again and _again_, pounding their cries into silence, spattering their warm blood against my flesh! And I wake _screaming,_ with my nails digging into my face, as if I could rip away the memories by ripping away the skin!"

Joss was sobbing quietly, her hands covering her mouth in sympathetic horror. Magus fixed his mad blue eyes on her. "Don't weep for me, young woman--weep for yourself. You will know what I speak of soon enough." He turned back to Houjun. "So end it for me, Celestial Warrior Chichiri. Release me from this existence and take my place!"

"No." The whisper was very soft. Houjun was as pale as death, but his jaw was set. "I'm very sorry for you, Magus, but I won't do it. I won't."

"You DARE? You dare to pity _me,_ your master and teacher? You would do well to be _half_ the man I was!"

A muscle twitched under Houjun's right eye, but he remained silent at the taunt.

Magus gritted his teeth. "All that power--all the killing power you were born to wield, and you stand there mute and helpless! It's no wonder that your woman threw you over for a stronger man!"

"Shut the fuck up, Magus!" Joss was livid with rage. "You don't know what you're talking about, so shut your fucking mouth!"

"I know exactly what I'm talking about! All those months I wasted on him, trying to teach him how to use his power--and all I heard were his sniveling complaints about the discomfort he experienced. A true warrior would never flinch at the cost of battle. A true _man_ would show more resolve than he ever did!"

"Shut UP!" shrieked Joss, rushing at Magus. He threw up a hand and struck her with a warding spell, sending her flying back across the floor.

"That's enough." The words were soft and dangerous. Houjun's eye gleamed red in a face obscured by tendrils of shadow. His form darkened as he held the ash staff before him. "Don't you touch her. Ever."

"I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize your true nature! That includes killing her, if need be." Magus' own face and form were becoming obscured by the soul-rending darkness.

The two magicians faced off, one holding his hand to his face while the other spun the staff before him. Shadows flowed from every corner of the chamber to swirl about them. A chill wind fluttered their robes as guttural chants filled the air.

Suddenly Magus flung his arm outward. Spears of black light blasted into the floor next to Joss, showering her with stone shrapnel. She cried out in pain, just as Houjun snarled a spell, sending a blast of wind to knock Magus' arm aside.

"Is that all you can do? Weak little disarming tactics?"

"I have no intention of allowing you to kill her--nor will I kill you!"

"Why _not?_ Are you frightened of killing? Isn't that why _your god_ created you? What use is a warrior who won't kill? What use are _you,_ Chichiri?"

Another blast of black light raced towards Joss. Houjun leaped into its path, his staff spinning away the killing spears. Magus sent another attack from the opposite direction, making him lunge to intercept it.

"How long do you think you can keep this up? It's only a matter of time before you tire--and your first indication of your lagging efforts will be her death!"

Houjun roared in anger, shooting his own black spears to explode at Magus' feet.

He staggered back, knocking against a console. "Too weak again! Or are you still reluctant to kill? Is it easier to kill your friends than your enemies? It certainly didn't take you long to attack your best friend all those months ago!"

"Shut up!" Houjun deflected another attack, but Joss cried out as more shrapnel struck her.

"Can't you see that she's going to die while you hesitate? Are you going to be as useless to her as you were to your betrothed? While you were doing nothing but weeping over your friend, your woman was drowning, screaming your name! How long will you wait _this_ time?"

Houjun suddenly stood straight, his chants deepening in intensity and force. A rapid-fire series of attacks blasted the console behind Magus, sending the time lord falling to his knees. He glared up at Houjun. "Again you hold back! How long will you deny your true nature, Chichiri? You are a killer, born to kill! No matter what you do in your life, people will die all around you. They die when you try, and they die when you do nothing! So for once, stop hiding from yourself and take control of your destiny! KILL ME NOW!"

Houjun felt the bitter truth of Magus' words take hold of him, as the darkness took hold of his mind. Before he knew it, he was spinning his staff in time to the razor winds, letting the dark ecstasy swallow his soul. Through the shadows veiling his eye, he could make out Magus kneeling before him, the slashed visage alight with mad rapture--and some small part of him cried out in horror, a horror that was quickly extinguished by the rising winds. A voice cried out a name--but he had no name, no identity. He was nothing but Death: Death's Avatar, Death's Right Hand, whose only choice was to kill.

"No, it isn't. You don't have to do this, Houjun."

He shook his head, fighting the helpless tears that rose at the sound of that beloved velvet voice. "Yes, I do. He's right; all I've done in the past is kill. Whether by accident or by choice, it makes no difference. I was born to kill!"

"That's not true. You're not a killer, Houjun; that's not what you do."

Houjun increased the velocity of the staff, refusing to allow his mind to play tricks on him. Yet he couldn't help answering the phantom voice. "He's left me no choice!"

"There is always a choice, Houjun. The past is dead and gone. The future has not yet arrived. All you have is this one moment--and in this moment, you can choose to say, 'I will not kill today.'"

Houjun felt the shadows slipping from him, his chants faltering as the killing force faded. The darkness lifted from his vision, and he saw Magus kneeling before him, his features transfigured by madness--and agony. The young magician caught his breath, finally seeing the truth.

This was Magus' legacy: bitterness and pain. If he killed Magus, he would inherit all of the self-hatred, all of the emptiness that would lead him to kill and kill again--until he in turn brought about his own death at the hands of another. The cycle of killing would continue, and the pain would never end.

Houjun lowered his staff. "No. It all ends now--with me. No more. No more killing."

Magus raised his hands to his face and howled in anguish. Tears poured down his ruined face as he curled into himself, a broken, grieving man.

Houjun stared down at Magus with compassion and pity. "If not for you, Doctor," he whispered, "that would have been me. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Houjun. But you must give credit where it is due, and that is to the strength of your own heart."

Houjun whirled around, not believing the proximity of that beloved voice. To his shock, the Doctor stood before him--dusty, disheveled, but definitely alive, his blue-green eyes shining with vitality. He would have thought himself hallucinating, if not for Joss standing behind the Doctor, a smile of wonder lighting her tear-streaked face.

"Doctor! Doctor, I…" Houjun's throat suddenly closed off with grief. Powerful emotions crashed through his barriers, feelings of pain and loss and relief and joy surging through him so thick and fast that he could hardly breathe. He stretched his hands out, unable to speak--and felt them caught in a strong grip, as he was pulled into a fierce and loving embrace.

"I'm so sorry," whispered the Doctor into the silvery-blue hair, holding Houjun tight against his hearts. "I never wanted to hurt you; I'm so sorry."

Houjun knew that he should stop clinging to the Doctor, but he couldn't seem to make himself let go of the velvet and silk. "I thought," he choked, "I thought you were gone."

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you so badly. It's a last-ditch defense mechanism that we time lords have: a feigned death technique that we call 'respiratory bypass.'" The Doctor pushed Houjun back to look in his face but kept a tight hold on his friend's shoulders. "Houjun, I don't mean to be abrupt, but we have an impending disaster on our hands. I promise that I will explain everything to you later, but for now, I must deal with Magus' signal."

"Oh, gods!" Houjun pushed back from the Doctor, embarrassed. "How could I forget?"

"Perfectly understandable, under the circumstances." The Doctor suddenly appeared beside Magus, his eyes narrowed as he bent near the quietly weeping time lord. He listened a moment to Magus' broken mutterings, then straightened, shaking his head. "No help here, I'm afraid. Never mind--hopefully, Magus' TARDIS will respond to my commands."

Joss moved to join Houjun. "That's right, Doctor! Magus had said something to me about accessing files from his TARDIS, but he never said where it was."

"We're standing in it, Joss."

"No way! You mean the entire school is his TARDIS?"

"No, just this one chamber. I could sense the artron energy as soon as I walked through the dwarf star door." The Doctor brushed past them and jumped up to the control console nearest the focusing crystal.

Joss and Houjun raced up to join him, Joss feeling as if she were following a hyperkinetic tour guide. "So Houjun busted through a TARDIS door? Wicked cool!"

Houjun blushed, while the Doctor looked up for a moment, startled. "Did you now, Houjun? That _is_ impressive!" The Doctor returned to his rapid manipulation of the controls, muttering under his breath. "Come now…yes, you don't know me, but all the same, I'm…yes, that's a good girl!"

Raising one eyebrow, Joss sent a questioning look at Houjun, jerking her chin at the Doctor's murmured conversation with the console. At that moment, the dome of the chamber suddenly turned transparent. The view shifted from the expected star-glittered night into a panoramic galaxial view. Ice-crusted comets flashed by, trailing rainbow crystal tails, while rolling chunks of asteroids tumbled past in a lumbering, awkward parade. The spiral swirl of the galaxy glittered above them, turning slowly in its inexorable, millennium-spanning course.

Grinning in delight, Joss elbowed Houjun, who stood transfixed in wonder. "This blows the Planetarium Sky Show outta the water!"

"This is no show, Joss; this is a transdimensional view of--but I need to find our quadrant!" The Doctor's fingers flew over the console, and the view shifted rapidly from star system to star system until it finally settled on a quiet, medium-sized yellow star encircled by colorful planets, situated in a remote spiral arm of the galaxy. "Wrong dimension," muttered the Doctor, squinting at a slight shimmer near the third planet. He pulled a lever, and the view jumped for a moment before settling back to display another yellow-star system.

Joss would have thought that it was the same solar system, but she noted that there were fewer planets circling a slightly larger star. The view focused on the fourth planet from the star, its blue surface shimmering around one large, squarish land mass. She thought that she glimpsed other land masses further on the horizon but was distracted by the Doctor's cry of triumph.

"There!" A shimmering band of blue-green light streaked from the fourth planet on a tangential trajectory out of the solar system. The Doctor's hands danced over the console controls as he coaxed Magus' TARDIS with murmured pleas. Finally, a series of blinding white spheres of energy flashed after the blue-green light, gaining speed with every millisecond. Joss shouted in triumph as the white spheres caught up to the blue streak--then cried out in disappointment as the streak parted, allowing the spheres to pass harmlessly through, before rejoining and continuing on its path.

"Damnation!" The Doctor punched the console in an uncharacteristic display of temper. "The artron energy missiles can't divert the signal! They're on different frequencies, and…" He looked up, his face pale in the bluish light streaming from overhead. "Oh, dear Rassilon," he prayed. "The signal is almost at the dimensional interface. It will cross over in less than ninety seconds of planetary time!"

"Can't we fight fire with fire?" Joss pleaded. "What if I chase down the students and bring them back here?"

"No time!" The Doctor leaped away from the console and jumped up on the restraining platform beneath the focusing crystals. "I have to try to send a beam of psi energy myself! Maybe if I…."

"No!" Houjun strode up to the platform and jumped up beside the time lord. "Get down from there, Doctor. Now!"

"Houjun, there's no other way!"

"I know that, but you don't have sufficient strength. Magus drained you of what psychic power you had. This task falls to me."

The Doctor grasped Houjun's cloak. "You don't understand! Running the focusing crystal in reverse is very dangerous; I have no idea of what effect it will have on a human!"

"I'm not an ordinary human; I'm a celestial warrior. You know that better than anyone." Houjun covered the Doctor's hands with his own, reading the fear in his friend's eyes. "You can't go on protecting me forever, Doctor," he admonished softly. "It's time for me to stand on my own. This is my world, my battle--and my responsibility." He released the Doctor's hands and grinned. "Now get out of my way; I have work to do."

Waves of strong emotion passed over the Doctor's face, but he nodded in acquiescence and jumped down. Houjun met Joss' gaze, her eyes tear-filled but her smile strong, as she saluted him with a raised fist. "Kick ass, Suzaku no Chichiri!"

The Doctor stood once again at the console, as Houjun grasped the broken wires from the crossbar restraints. The magician closed his eye in concentration, gathering and focusing his power, as the dome groaned open in response to the Doctor's command.

Joss stood between the two, her eyes fixed on Houjun and her lips moving in prayer. "Come on, Suzaku, we need some help here! You gave him the power before, so you can damn well boost him now! Come on…_Yes!_"

Crimson flames once again played along Houjun's outline so that he appeared to crackle with energy. The Doctor turned a knob on the console, and the focusing crystal began to glow. A chiming note sang out from the crystal array, and Houjun tilted his face up, his body tensing in anticipation.

"Now!" shouted the Doctor, and Houjun flung both hands up, letting his head fall back as he cast all of his power at the crystal. The crystal glowed scarlet, its chiming note increasing in pitch and intensity until it rose to a metallic shriek. A white bolt of energy streaked back towards Houjun, and he screamed in agony as he fell back against the crossbars, pinned in place, his hands closing convulsively around the wires.

Joss cried out in horror and rushed at him, but the energy shield flung her back. Houjun's features twisted in pain and a strange ecstasy, as power flowed back and forth between his body and the crystal. Finally, the crystal changed color, glowing with a silvery-blue light, its shriek modulating back to a singing high note. The silver-blue light condensed within the crystal, forming a shining line that shot out from the top of the crystal, escaping into the sky.

The Doctor watched, his hand poised over the controls, as the silver beam closed in on the blue-green streak of psychic energy. Mere milliseconds ahead, a slight shimmer indicated the interface to the parallel dimension. Just as the psychic signal reached the shimmer, the silver beam sliced into it. An explosion of energy lit the TARDIS viewscreen, which dimmed automatically in defense. Tiny splinters of green-blue light shot in every direction, some spiralling back towards the planet, while others passed weakly through the shimmer. The Doctor slammed down all controls, shutting down the crystal, and rushed to the focusing platform, passing Joss, who was struggling to her feet.

He caught Houjun's slumped form in his arms, pulling the melted wires from the magician's singed hands. He tilted the youth's face up, anxiously noting the bruising around his eyes where blood vessels had burst under pressure. "Houjun!"

One mahogany eye opened slowly, meeting his frantic gaze blankly before coming back into focus. "Doctor," he breathed.

"Yes?"

"I've got one mother of a headache."

"Language, Houjun," the Doctor rebuked gently--and the two men burst into laughter, as Joss ran up and embraced them both.

XxX

Finally the three broke apart, grinning at one another. "Now this is as it should be!" exclaimed the Doctor, making Houjun and Joss dissolve into laughter once again.

Joss caught her breath. "So, Doctor, we did it, right? Defeated the baddies and saved the day?"

The Doctor's grin faltered. "Er…I hope so. Time will tell, Joss."

"What do you mean?" Houjun frowned in confusion. "Didn't we intercept the signal?"

"Ye-es. Well, mostly, at least." The Doctor hunched his shoulders under his companions' wide-eyed stares. "We intercepted and dispersed the signal--excellent work, by the way, Houjun--but we didn't entirely destroy it. The signal broke up into tiny fragments, each containing only a microportion of its original composite strength. Most of the fragments remained in this dimension, falling back into this solar system, but I'm afraid that a few may have crossed over into the dark dimension."

"Which _means?_" Joss pressed.

"I don't know," admitted the Doctor. "It's all a question of chance and luck, I'm afraid. Magus' original signal had the capability to travel deep into the Swarm's dimension, setting off a powerful explosion of psychic energy that was certain to attract the attention of that parasitic race. These fragments, however, are unlikely to travel very far or to attract much attention--unless we have the singular misfortune to have the Swarm scouting the region where these fragments entered."

"And if that misfortune occurs?" Houjun inquired softly, his bruises standing out against his pale face.

"We may yet be in luck. Your dispersal was so powerful, Houjun, that the altered trajectory of the fragments may mask their origin. There are many dimensions in the space-time continuum, and it is no small task to sort through all of them. I very much doubt that any race has the ability to do so, or even to enumerate what might be an infinite number of dimensions." The Doctor bit his lip, looking away from his companions.

Joss narrowed her eyes at him. "So what you're saying is that we won--mostly, kind of, probably--but not for certain."

"Nothing is for certain, not as long as the Swarm exists in any dimension. But we have bought ourselves time, which is all the victory any mortal being can claim, Joss. Anything can happen in time: the Swarm can die out or cannibalize themselves, we can find ways to definitively defeat them, and so on. The important thing is that we have another day in which to live and grow and learn to defend ourselves. So yes, we have won—mostly, kind of, probably." The Doctor grinned at Joss.

Houjun looked past Joss and the Doctor to a dark form huddled quietly in one corner. "And what about him?"

The Doctor turned, his gaze darkening. "He is my responsibility, just as this world is yours. Magus is of my race, my people, and I will deal with him as he deserves."

Joss shuddered at the cold intent in the Doctor's voice. At this moment, even more than the previous night, the Doctor seemed like a stranger to her. An alien.

The Doctor approached the huddled form. "Get up, Magus. Stand up and face me." His tone was harsh, pitiless.

Magus pulled himself to his feet. His scarred visage was expressionless, his eyes dull and weary, showing no fear or regret or emotion at all. Empty, thought Joss, reminded of Maboroshi standing unflinching before Magus just twenty-four hours earlier. Nothing to lose. No reason to care. She fought back a wave of pity, reminding herself of his abuse of Houjun, his willingness to kill her and countless others on this planet.

"Recognize whom you are facing at this moment. I. Am. The. Doctor. Ex-President of the High Council of Time Lords. Keeper of the Legacy of Rassilon. Defender of the Laws of Time. Protector of Gallifrey. I call you to account for your attempted infractions against this dimension, for your forbidden transgressions into proscribed dimensions, and for your violations of the Gallifreyan laws of time."

Magus' eyes briefly glinted with irony. He kept silent, however, standing motionless before his accuser.

"For these crimes, but most of all, for the pain you have personally inflicted upon the sentient being known as Ri Houjun," the Doctor's voice softened, "and for the pain you have inflicted upon yourself, I pass judgment upon you."

The Doctor straightened, his voice ringing out, reverberating off the walls of the chamber. "I find you guilty of all of these crimes...and I sentence you--to Life."

Magus flinched, his mouth opening in a soundless cry of denial. The Doctor moved closer, his eyes burning into Magus. "I sentence you to live. I sentence you to remember, to weep and rage and bleed. I sentence you to _take_ those memories and learn from them, to build a life that honors those whom you have lost."

Magus collapsed to his knees, hiding his wounded face in his hands. "No," he sobbed softly, brokenly. "No…"

Above him resounded the Doctor's voice, his words solemn, weighty, as if he were speaking a prophecy. "This is your penance. You cannot escape; you cannot run from this existence--until you fulfill your destiny. Your destiny is to become a light in the darkness. Your atonement is to use your knowledge and your experience to lead others out of their suffering instead of into it. Only then will you find peace. Look at me, Magus."

Magus raised aching, tear-blurred eyes to see the Doctor standing over him, extending one hand.

"Take my hand." His tones had changed, becoming soft, velvety with comfort. "Let me take you to a place where you can rest, to a man who can help you heal. For once in your lives, trust in something other than your pain." His voice was gentle, persuasive. "Trust me."

Magus grimaced, closing his eyes—then opened them wide, searching the Doctor's face, probing his mind. The Doctor stood with his hands out, palms up, accepting the intrusion, answering the unspoken questions. Finally Magus took a deep breath and grasped the Doctor's hands, pulling himself up. The time lords faced one another, communing in some silent language unheard by their awestruck witnesses.

Magus finally broke the silence. "My TARDIS?" he asked hoarsely.

The Doctor shook his head regretfully. "No, I'm sorry. She must remain here, healing apart from you. You are feeding one another's pain, exacerbating each other's wounds. Someday, when you are ready--I will bring you back."

Magus lowered his head in reluctant acquiescence.

The Doctor turned and met Joss and Houjun's stunned expressions. "I must leave you now, but I will return, I promise. I must take Magus to a safe place and retrieve my TARDIS, and…"

His words faded as a brilliant scarlet light engulfed both time lords, making Joss and Houjun shield their eyes from the blinding glare. When they lowered their hands, the space where Magus and the Doctor had stood was empty.

Houjun turned troubled eyes to Joss. "He's telling the truth, isn't he? He will be back soon, right?"

Joss shook her head. "Nobody tells me a damn thing around here!" she groused. "I'm just as much in the dark as you, Houjun—but hey! He'd better come back, 'cause he's my ride home!"

XxX

XxX

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

Fusege! - Stop! Hold!

Hanase, ima! - Release, now!

**Glossary of Gallifreyan terms:**

TARDIS: Time and Relative Dimensions in Space; the acronym for the space-time vehicles of time lords

XxX

**Author's Notes: (9-8-04)** Well, it's been a long time, hasn't it? I don't even want to mention how many months--but let's just say a couple of seasons have passed since the last Bridge update.(Snow and ice, anyone?) I know that nothing can be worth _that_ long of a wait, but I hope that this chapter entertained you for a bit, at least.

There is a very important acknowledgment that needs to go right here at the start of this note--and that is to my faithful and tireless beta-readers, who have edited THREE manuscripts of this chapter. So please send thoughts of gratitude to the ever-astute Ryuen, joined in this task by the elusive (yet still breathing) Purple Mouse!

Now for those of you who have followed me since White Stones, you may have noticed something that is glaringly absent from Bridge, and yet present in all of my other works. Can any of you guess? Oh, yes--the Dreaded Akugi!

The darker nature of Bridge has not loaned itself to silly puns and giddy humor--until now, that is. Chapter Seventeen in particular offered some rare opportunities for fun, but I abstained from akugis (or any author notes, really) because I didn't want to disrupt The Drah-ma! However, this is a whole new chapter and a whole new day!

The first akugi is really a Real-Life Incident that illustrates what a dreadful task it is to Edit Roku. My beta readers present me with gentle criticisms, only to receive in return…well, here's an example of our correspondence on Bridge 18.

x

** Roku's First Draft:**

"You _dare!"_ snarled Houjun. "You dare recruit me for your fanatical schemes while the body of the man you killed lies in the dust behind me!"

**Ryuen's comments:** "Fanatical schemes" sounds a little Batman & Robin, I'm afraid. But I like the idea of it, so if you could find another way to say it…yeah. (nod)

**Purple Mouse's comments:** Yeah, it's a little B-movie-ish.

i

**Roku's Second Draft:**

"You _dare!"_ snarled Houjun. "You dare recruit me for your dastardly plots while the body of the man you killed lies in the dust behind me!"

Magus straightened, his form infused with renewed purpose. "In the war against evil, there are always necessary sacrifices." He raised his arm abruptly, deflecting another of Houjun's psychic assaults. "Will you continue to carry on in this infantile manner? You waste our time with these crude attacks, while the fate of millions hangs in the balance! There are greater consequences at stake than the life of any one man!"

"Not for me." Houjun lowered his staff, bringing himself back under control. "When you killed him, you made yourself my archenemy! There will be no peace between us _ever._ Not even for the sake of these supposed millions!"

"_'Supposed'_ millions? Do you imagine that I am joking about the threat to this world?"

"Yes, I do think you're joking--because I know your True Identity! You are--The Joker!"

"Bwahahahahaha! Too late, Caped Crusader! I will now kill you with this immensely complex Rube Goldberg Device that will send a spinning drill bit through your brain while tormenting you with feather dusters!"

Joss jumped up. "Holy Kama Sutra, Batman! What a twisted application of the pleasure-pain principle!"

"Never fear, Robin! I will thwart the megalomaniacal schemes of this…megalomaniac by use of my Secret Rube-Goldberg-Drill-Bit-Disarmament Device that I just happened to have secreted in the secret sleeve of my Batsuit!" Houjun threw back his cape, er, cloak.

Joss let out a whistle. "Whoa, Batman, nice spandex! I like the codpiece as well!"

Houjun frowned, confused. "But I'm not wearing a codpiece, Joss."

Joss punched the air. "Whoo-hooooooo!"

i

**Ryuen:** Grrrr! I had some serious moments of terror when I thought that "dastardly plots" was real!

**Purple Mouse:** And "archenemy" too! That woman has serious issues!

x

BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! See what horrors my betas have to put up with? It took me a _whole week_ to get the Casting Stones muse out of my "Bridge" mindset!

Okay now, this next akugi is NOT for my Hard-Core Bridge/Drama fans. This is a warning for Anyone Who Does Not Like Implications of Slash: You won't like this akugi, so end your "Bridge"-ing experience now with fond memories of Chapter Eighteen.

How-ev-er: To my slash-addicted friends (and you know who you are), this one's for you! I fondly dedicate this next akugi in your honor: A Salute to a Pivotal Scene in Bridge Seventeen!

i

Joss: Listen, Houjun, you know that I love you--so understand where I'm coming from when I say, _GET OVER IT!_ He's the _Doctor, _he's our friend, our saviorwhat difference does it make what planet he's from, or what's in his past?

Houjun: You don't understand! (voice trembling) It makes no difference at all! But he invaded my mind and tampered with my thoughts, _making_ me see him as something foreign, something _alien_…when all along, he knew, as I know, that we were one!

He continues, his eye bright with unshed tears, his voice vibrating with passion.

Houjun: We _are_ one: I have slept on those hearts; in those arms, I have found comfort and warmth! He has been my salvation in every way possible--and even now, he has pushed me away to protect me, shielding me as if I were a child, as if I were _his_--!

Joss: Whoa, whoa, whoa…back up a minute there. What do you mean, you've slept on the Doctor? What _exactly _has been going on between you two?

Houjun: (flushing) It wasn't like that! I fell in the river, and he pulled me out! I was nearly freezing to death, so he…

Joss: (eyes bright) Uh-huh. I'm listening; go on.

Houjun: (grumbling) Just forget it!

Joss: Sorry, can't! So…what were you wearing at the time?

Houjun: (scarlet) Um…my clothes were all wet, so--

Joss: (ecstatic) And what was the _Doctor_ wearing?

Houjun: Um, actually…

Joss: Whoo-hooooooo! I wanna be the Peanut Butter in that Manwich!

Houjun: - -;;

x

Ah, yes…it's a bad mistake for me to write author notes at 3 AM. Oh, well, I hope you enjoyed this outing (no pun intended), and I will be back soon, I hope, with the next installment of Bridge!

Ja ne!

Roku


	19. A bridge over the abyss

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

XxX

****

Chapter 19. A bridge over the abyss

"…but hey! He'd better come back, 'cause he's my ride home!"

Houjun paled at Joss' words, a stricken expression crossing his face. "Home?" he asked softly.

Joss flushed but met his eye squarely. He saw it all, everything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours--everything that _he_ had done to her. In her honest gaze stood the feelings that had been suppressed beneath the desperate urgency of their mission.

Pain. Sorrow. Desolation and loss, all wrapped around a burning, selfless love, a love that he had thoughtlessly spurned.

He lowered his gaze, shamed to the depths of his being by the reality exposed by Maboroshi's illusion. Hidden deep within his heart was the truth that now separated them like a raging river: that he would trade all of the days he had spent with Joss for five more minutes with Kouran.

Houjun's throat constricted with grief. Had Kouran felt this depth of self-hatred when she rejected him? Had she despised herself for hurting him, the way he now despised himself? It made no difference; it didn't stop either of them from hurting the ones who loved them. The cycle of pain continued, as it always would.

"Hey." The voice was soft with comfort, the hand warm on his arm. If he were a better man, he would deny himself her consolation instead of covering her hand with his own, holding onto her as if he would never let go.

Lying to her. Lying to himself.

"Listen, Houjun, I--"

A shower of stone fragments landed on their joined hands, cutting Joss off in mid-sentence. Houjun looked up as more fragments fell from the ceiling. He felt it: a definite tremor, a powerful vibration that shook the chamber as if a massive beast sought to break through the stone floor. Every hair on his arms stood up, and he tightened his grasp on Joss' arm, pulling her after him. "We have to get out. _Now!_"

They bolted towards the stairs, stumbling as a stronger tremor shook the floor, causing the focusing crystal to chime atonally while the metal consoles groaned under the strain.

"Houjun, wait!" Joss pointed at the staircase. A wide crack appeared along its length, sending several of its slate tiles crashing to the chamber floor below. Houjun pulled Joss back and focused his ki, praying that the building above was intact--then transmigrated to the chamber outside the dwarf star door.

"Shit!" Joss stumbled back against Houjun, dodging a huge stone pillar that smashed into the ground less than a meter away. The magician threw his arm around Joss, hurling barrier spells as they struggled through the dust-choked chamber.

A figure materialized before them, dark against the gritty, grey fog. "Houjun, Joss, over here!"

To Houjun's shock, the Doctor stood across the room, waving urgently as he pushed open a panel in a tall rectangular box. Joss didn't hesitate, digging her nails into Houjun's hand and sprinting towards the time lord.

"Quick, into the TARDIS!"

Joss leaped through the opening into the blue wooden structure--just as Houjun saw a giant stone block catapulting down toward the comparatively fragile box.

"_Yuremere!_" he shouted, slowing the block but failing to stop its ominous descent. "Doctor, get her out of there!"

"No, you get in, Houjun! Now!" Houjun felt himself unceremoniously shoved into the box. He experienced a moment of dimensional displacement, a stronger version of the feeling invoked by his normal transmigration spell. A shiver ran up his spine--and he caught his breath as he crossed the final threshold.

To his relief, Joss stood beside him, panting and dust-covered but otherwise unharmed. Her eyes were wide with wonder--and he knew that his expression was as awestruck as hers.

They stood at the top of a short staircase that bordered a giant vaulted room, the clear domed ceiling showing the same impressive starscape that he had last seen in Magus' chamber. Beneath the dome stood a hexagonal console covered in flashing lights and strange levers, its center dominated by a glowing blue column that pulsed in time to his heartbeat. However, the rest of the room contrasted sharply with the unfamiliar otherworldliness of the central structure.

The room was gently lit by golden lamps, showcasing a set of three brocaded armchairs arrayed around a low mahogany table set with an ornate silver teapot and small silver bowls. Rows of shelves held thousands of the strange square scrolls that the Doctor referred to as books, while a sundial and dozens of gold and ivory devices ticked quietly along one wall. On the far side of the room stood a pair of bronze double doors inscribed with a swirling infinity symbol.

He descended the stairs in a trance, dimly registering the soft plush of the rich oriental carpet. This chamber that spoke of human comfort and warmth, intermixed with alien instrumentation and celestial wisdom--this entire chamber was the perfect embodiment of the man to whom it belonged.

"Doctor," breathed Houjun in awe.

"In a moment, Houjun," replied the time lord, brushing past him and running up to the central console. He rapidly flicked several switches, muttering to himself.

Joss had regained her breath, and her usual unquenchable spirit showed in her delighted grin. She gave him a cheerful thumbs up. "Let's hear it for Plan B!"

"Plan B?" Houjun frowned in confusion.

"Yeah, also known as Run Like Hell!" She moved toward the central console. "Hey, Doctor, nice digs!"

"Thank you. I'll give you a short tour as soon as I've finished here, provided…" The Doctor trailed off, frowning as he read something from a flickering blue screen.

She jumped up beside him, followed shortly by Houjun. "We seem to be doing a lot of this lately," she whispered to her bemused companion, then raised her voice. "Yeah, what the hell's happening out there, Doctor? Major quake or what?"

"No, it's Magus' TARDIS. She's having a sort of temper tantrum, if you will." He smiled at his companions, but his eyes were creased with concern. "She's a bit unstable, I'm afraid. You see, there is a symbiotic link between a time lord and his TARDIS. Magus' personal tragedy affected not only _his_ emotional stability but that of his TARDIS as well. His mental agony fed into her symbiotic circuits; you might say that she was grieving with him. But as his obsession grew, so did hers--and without him realizing it, she began exacerbating his madness, feeding his nightmares and driving his frenzy. As long as they remained together, neither could heal completely."

The Doctor flicked a switch, and suddenly the starscape above them switched to a long-range view of the dark hills surrounding the castle school. They watched in fascinated horror as the towers collapsed in on themselves, and the rooftops crashed to the ground, raising billowing clouds of dust that obscured the moonlight.

"As you can see, Magus' TARDIS is not pleased with the disappearance of her symbiotic partner. I didn't dare try to materialize within her control room; that's a tricky business at any time and near impossible with such an unstable target. So I'm very relieved that you two made it safely out of there. All I need now is to make sure that she limits her anger to this one small area within a single dimension."

"So you wanna make sure that she's just trashing a room instead of getting ready to take out innocent bystanders with an AK-47."

"Aptly put as usual, Joss. Yes, I truly hope that I don't have to engage in a transdimensional duel between TARDISes. Ah, here we go."

The last of the walls collapsed, sending up one last tremendous cloud of dust. The dust billowed and roiled upwards, as if driven by a powerful wind…then stopped, suspended for a moment in the darkness before drifting down to the rubble below.

The Doctor bent over his console, closing his eyes and tilting his head as if listening to a distant voice. Joss and Houjun held their breaths in unconscious suspense. Finally the time lord opened his eyes, turning away from his companions and blinking rapidly.

"She'll be all right now." His voice was curiously husky. "This is the perfect place to heal. Quiet, peaceful, no one to disturb her rest."

Joss cleared her throat. "Speaking of healing, where did you take Magus?"

"I returned him to our home planet. Tricky business that, getting past the guards and barriers, but I've had a bit of experience in that area. I took him to my old mentor, who will help him find peace. As long as the High Council never discovers that Magus is on Gallifrey, he should be able to recover. At least, I hope so." The Doctor glanced over at Houjun, who still stood transfixed, staring up at the landscape above him.

Ruin. The entire school was reduced to a broken ruin. Conflicting thoughts and emotions swirled through Houjun's mind. This had been his home. His prison. The place he belonged. The place he desperately wanted to escape from. His purpose for living.

A purpose that turned out to be a lie.

A strong hand gripped his arm, turning him away from the destruction and towards the brass double doors. "Come with me, Houjun. There's a place you need to see."

XxX

Houjun followed the Doctor through the nondescript white corridors, unremarkable except for white roundels set in symmetric patterns in every wall and door. The time lord paused before two or three different doors but opened none of them, shaking his head slightly and continuing onward as if he were unsure of the location of the particular room he sought. Suddenly, he halted so abruptly that Houjun nearly collided with him. "Here it is," he said, triumphant. He pushed open the door and disappeared into the room.

Houjun followed hesitantly--and stopped, overwhelmed with awe for the second time that hour.

He stood in an open field, the land rising gently under a thick carpet of grass and wildflowers. The sun warmed the blossom-scented air, while a fresh breeze stirred the leaves on the widely spaced trees. Houjun lifted his face to the light, overcome with the memory of a long ago spring day: the day he had first met the Doctor.

Looking around, he finally spied the familiar figure reclining on a gentle slope. The Doctor blended in with the wildflowers, nearly every inch of his velvet coat covered with brightly colored petals. Houjun walked up the hill to join the Doctor--and flinched when the petals swirled up and flew away, winging their way into the sky.

"Butterflies," murmured the velvet voice. "You're a stranger to them, Houjun, but in time, curiosity will overcome their shyness." The Doctor smiled up at him. "Have a seat."

Houjun sat down beside the time lord after carefully brushing the grass for unwary butterflies. "I don't understand this. Have we traveled to another place? I thought we were still inside, but…"

"We _are_ inside; well, at least as we perceive it. The TARDIS crosses many dimensions of time and space. This room, this dimension--let's just say that sometimes it's better to accept a reality than analyze it."

Houjun lay back on the slope and closed his eye. This place, suffused with warmth and unearthly peace, should have soothed and comforted him, but instead, it was doing something strange. It was pulling the memories of his entire life to the forefront of his mind, drawing the pain out of him like a fine silver wire that cut him until he bled. He clamped his teeth together, determined not to give in this time.

He was tired of the tears. He was tired of the grief and the pain. He was tired of the moments of weakness that forced him to lean on the Doctor and Joss, drawing on their strength--and giving nothing in return.

Enough already.

"I'm going to leave you alone for awhile."

Houjun's eye flew open, and he struggled to his feet. The Doctor stood before him, smiling wryly.

"I'm going back to the control room to bandage Joss' cuts. You need some time to think."

The magician clenched his fists in frustration. "I don't want to stay here, Doctor. I don't _want_ to think! I don't want this--this--I'm _tired_ of feeling!" he shouted. Butterflies on the far slopes burst out of the flowers, fleeing into the safety of the azure sky.

"Yet you can't stop, can you? Nor should you try. Look over there." The Doctor took Houjun's arm and turned him to face the far hills, pointing at the butterflies spinning and drifting in the gentle breeze. "Watch the butterflies. They don't fight the wind, no matter how strong it gusts. Nor do they succumb to it, crushed beneath its power. They yield to the force, using it to rise higher, riding the wind to the limits of the sky." He released Houjun's arm and stepped back, his gentle tones drifting on the light breeze. "Watch the butterflies, Houjun--and learn."

Houjun stared into the sky for a moment longer. "But, Doctor, I…" he said, turning to face his friend--and found himself completely alone.

Alone. As he had been just weeks ago. As he would be soon again.

The emotions rose up in a tremendous wave, crashing over him and driving him to his knees. He sank beneath the crushing force, drowning in the bitter tide. Faces swam out of the darkness, hands reaching up to drag him into the deep. Hikou, Kouran: lost forever. Kurayami, mocking and lethal. Maboroshi, cruel in his desperate need. Magus, misguided, bitter, driven by the forces of hatred and pain.

Different hands grasped his, pulling him up toward the surface. The Doctor lifting him out of the darkness. Joss reaching out with her heart. Both of them towing him to safety--before backing away and disappearing, like everyone else he had ever loved.

The pain rolled over him, through him, battering and tossing him until he lost all sense of himself. Did he scream in rage? Did he howl in agony? Did he fall upon the ground, begging it to rise up and swallow him instead of leaving him stranded, gasping on its grassy expanse? He didn't know. When did the pain turn to emptiness--and the emptiness to acceptance? He had lost all sense of time along with his sense of self. He stared up into the vaulted sky, his mind filled with a weariness that was almost peace.

So be it. So it was his lot in life to walk alone. He could accept that--if only he could find some meaning in his solitary existence.

Movement caught his eye; something falling towards him, a miniature spot of color bright against the azure backdrop. It appeared helpless in its spinning descent…until it caught the wind in its delicate wings, swirling upward and banking sharply before landing gently upon his chest.

Houjun stared at the butterfly, holding his breath. He had never seen such a beautiful creature before, its wings shimmering with iridescent violet hues, its feathered antenna waving in time to some hidden pulse. It regarded him calmly through complex, multifaceted eyes, seemingly unafraid of his scarred and tortured ki.

Another flash of brilliant color, another flutter of delicate wings--and a second butterfly joined its fellow, this one decorated with a sapphire-and-black mosaic pattern.

More and more wings fluttered into his peripheral view, spinning, falling from the sky, until he felt as if he were being showered with jeweled blossoms. The butterflies landed lightly upon him, their delicate jointed legs probing curiously at his clothes, his wildly mussed hair. They fanned their brilliant wings slowly, sending their light, dusty scent to tickle his nose.

He laughed softly in wonder, sending a few of his shyest tenants to lift off briefly in surprise before landing on him once again, settling confidently on this new yet benevolent intruder.

"I knew they would like you."

He turned his head slowly, careful of his delicate passengers, and met the time lord's blue-green gaze. Joss stood just behind the Doctor, grinning down at him. Houjun didn't blame her; he knew that he must appear nearly buried in butterflies.

His friends brushed the grass and sat down beside him, reclining on the hillside. Many of Houjun's butterflies deserted him for the Doctor, clinging to the green velvet and tangling their legs in his hair. They were wary of Joss, however, keeping a safe distance until one bold orange-and-black monarch claimed a place on her shoulder. Houjun looked back up at the sky, savoring the peace of this moment, wishing that he could stop time and hold them here beside him forever. He sighed softly, knowing that it was a vain hope; nothing lasted forever, least of all peace.

"Yet that's what makes times like this so precious, isn't it? It's their transience that renders these moments their sweetness."

Houjun bit his lip, keeping his gaze skyward while pondering the Doctor's words. "Maybe so--but I can't help wondering what it's all for."

"What it's for?"

"All of it: everything we went through on this entire journey." Houjun turned on his side, facing the Doctor. "Yes, we stopped Magus--or did we? You yourself have admitted that we don't know whether we've succeeded. I've been thinking about it: Magus could never have sent that signal to the Swarm without our help, however unwilling. So if our quest was to stop him, what does it mean when we precipitated the disaster we sought to prevent?"

Houjun sat up in agitation, sending a cloud of butterflies whirling into the air. "As for Suzaku and his connection with you--yes, I know that you can't tell me the details, but I'm able to work out most of it for myself. If the whole point of this mission was to rescue me from Magus' influence, then what is _my_ overall purpose? I feel as if you and Joss have done all the work, while I've been the captive in the castle, waiting for rescue and drawing on your strength. I still can't see any meaning in my existence, other than a pawn over whom Magus and Suzaku have battled--and I need to be _more_ than that, Doctor!"

"You _are_ more than that, more than you can possibly imagine." The Doctor reached out and grasped Houjun's hands tightly. "Aside from denigrating your critical role in defeating Magus--and you can't lie to me, no matter how much you might lie to yourself--you are correct about one thing: the mission to stop Magus was at best an equivocal success. However, that was not the most important part. The crucial part of our journey was where you succeeded beyond my wildest hopes."

Houjun frowned, noting that Joss' expression mirrored his confusion. "I don't understand."

"Do you remember a long-ago conversation we had about fighting evil and the dangers of the abyss? We had not yet met Joss at that time. You'd asked me how we could battle evil without losing our own souls in the attempt."

The magician closed his eye, seized by the memory of a dark night, of firelight sending shadows dancing across the Doctor's features, rendering them mystical and strange. In his mind, he could hear a resonant voice echoing through the gloom.

__

"We can fight Evil another way."

"How?"

"We can build a bridge over the abyss. We can create a path that leads others and ourselves out of the reach of the pit. It takes tremendous effort--but in the end, it may well be the most effective way to defeat the darkness."

"A bridge over the abyss," Houjun repeated. He looked up at the Doctor. "You'd promised to explain it to me."

"In our journey, we have met many people--and among those people have been several children. Do you remember the children, Houjun?"

Youthful faces surfaced in his thoughts. Saihitei, the boy emperor. Ryuuen, the young crossdresser. Kishuku and his baby sister. Brief encounters, lives touching his for only a moment. "I remember them, but I doubt they remember me. I spent only a small amount of time with any of them."

"Yet in that time, you gave each of them a priceless gift. You led each of them a few steps further from the abyss. In the years to come, they may not remember your face, but they will always remember your words. In their darkest hour, it will be your words that will keep them going. You have given them hope, Houjun: a pearl beyond price."

Houjun looked down and sighed. "I'm glad, Doctor. I'm glad that I helped them, but this hardly makes me worthy of being a celestial warrior."

"You couldn't be more wrong. There is nothing you have done in your life that has made you more worthy of that title. You see, Houjun, those young people you helped are going to become very important in the future of Konan. They are your Suzaku brothers--and your future companions."

Houjun stared at the Doctor, his eye widened in shock. Joss, however, expressed her surprise in a much louder fashion.

"Shit, I should have guessed that! The magic mirror, our wild cross-country chases--talk about not seeing the forest for the trees! So everyone we met is a Suzaku warrior? Saihitei, Sachiko--heck, what about Hakurou?"

"Not everyone, Joss. There are only six other warriors of Suzaku, and I encountered Suzaku no Seishi Chiriko on my own, in my journey to the west."

Joss grinned, reaching out to give Houjun a friendly shove. "And hey, not that I _want_ to remember him, but you helped other people, too. Remember that you saved Shun'u's life, and that mouthy little shit is no celestial warrior."

"Kou Shun'u, Suzaku no Seishi Tasuki."

Now it was Joss' turn to gape at the Doctor. "No way! No _fucking_ way! What in the hell is Suzaku gonna do with a foul-mouthed, attitudinal little midget?"

Houjun finally laughed, shaken out of his trance by her explosive response. "Joss, you're being unfair. Not to mention that Shun'u won't always be that small. Didn't you see the size of his hands and feet? By the time he grows into them, he'll be--"

Joss interrupted, muttering grouchily. "A foul-mouthed midget with giant feet."

Houjun bit back his laughter and turned to the Doctor. "And the others?"

"Seishuku Saihitei, Celestial Warrior Hotohori. Chou Ryuuen, Celestial Warrior Nuriko. Sou Kishuku, Celestial Warrior Tamahome." The Doctor paused a moment, smiling. "Myou Juan, Celestial Warrior Mitsukake."

Houjun felt his heart lift. This explained the sense of connection, the immediate rapport with Myou Juan--with _all_ of them! Perhaps it wasn't his fate to walk alone. Someday they would all meet again. He would be one of a group of men united by a common cause--and perhaps they would be more than that. Perhaps they would all be friends.

Joss' mood seemed to lighten with his own. She gave Houjun a reassuring pat. "Hey, maybe it won't be so bad with Shun'u being part of that whole gang. I mean, it won't be as if you'll be stuck traveling alone with him or anything."

Houjun laughed at Joss' continual pretense at disliking Shun'u. Her ki gave away the truth: out of everyone they had encountered on their journey, Shun'u was her favorite.

"There are some caveats, however, that you must obey." The Doctor's expression turned darkly serious. "The success of your mission in summoning Suzaku rests upon these conditions, Houjun. First of all, it is the duty of the Priestess of Suzaku to find and assemble her celestial warriors. Since you already know the identities of the others, you may not accompany the Priestess on her journey. If you encounter her before the others are found, you must find some way to excuse yourself from her mission. Second, and most importantly--"

The Doctor paused, fixing his gaze upon Houjun, his eyes shading into mystical green. "It is the decree of your god, in accordance with the laws of all four gods, that you may not use the powers that Magus has taught you to harness. If you use those powers during your mission to summon Suzaku, you will forfeit your life and eternal soul. The Four Gods together will destroy you for what they consider to be blasphemy. Do you understand, Houjun?"

Beneath the Doctor's grim gaze, the magician read another expression: fear, overwhelming fear for the welfare of his friend. Houjun would've liked to have reassured the Doctor, to promise him that he would never violate Suzaku's decree under any circumstances--but the memories of his desperate battle against Kurayami and Maboroshi stood sharp and clear in his mind.

He had changed. This entire journey had changed him. He was no child to give blithe promises about a future filled with dangers yet unknown.

He met the time lord's concerned gaze directly. "I will do my best, Doctor; that's all I can tell you. I can no more promise to adhere to the laws of Suzaku under any and all circumstances than you…" one corner of Houjun's mouth quirked up in ironic amusement, "…than you can promise to adhere to all of the laws of your High Council."

The Doctor sighed and ran one hand through his unruly curls. "I was afraid you might say something like that. It seems that I'm not the best person to lecture you on blind obedience to authority." He shook his head, trying to repress a smile, but his eyes danced. "We can only hope that circumstances don't require us to disobey--or if they do, that Authority will try to understand. If not--"

"There's always Plan B!" Joss broke in irrepressibly.

The three friends laughed, savoring these moments of togetherness. These last, bittersweet moments of togetherness.

Houjun looked off into the distance, watching the butterflies swirl as chaotically as his emotions. "I think I finally understand. The best way to fight evil is not in grand battles and massive wars; the best way is in reaching out a hand, spending a moment of time in helping another person overcome their own private pain."

"I knew you would explain it to me in the end." The Doctor's voice was soft with satisfaction, overflowing with pride. "Yes, Houjun, that is exactly what you have done on this journey. You have made a path around the abyss for each of your seishi brothers. You have become their bridge over the abyss--and you will continue to be that bridge for the rest of your life."

Houjun felt it then: the sense of purpose he had sought for so long. It was such a little thing, to offer a listening ear, a supportive hand. It was such a massive thing, to stand between a wounded spirit and the pit of despair. Conviction flowed through him, lifting him, strengthening him. Yes, he would inevitably suffer from moments of self-doubt in the future, but he would always have this purpose to force him onwards.

Looking over at the two people who had changed his life so dramatically, he saw the love in their eyes, felt the strength of their bonds: bonds that no time or distance could ever sever. Celestial Warrior Chichiri smiled at them, not fighting the rising tears, because they weren't tears of weakness but of joy.

He reached out and grasped their hands. "As you have been my bridge over the abyss. As you both have been--and always will be."

XxX

XxX

****

Glossary of Japanese Terms:

Yuremere! - Slow down!

XxX

**Author's note: (10-4-04)** Well, a short chapter by Roku standards, but I ended it here because it fulfilled my "dramatic arc" criteria. I could almost end the entire fic here--it has that same sense of finality that the "Decision" chapter had in "White Stones"--but there are a few last events and scenes I need to cover before I leave this story.

Before I go any further, I'd like to acknowledge my tireless beta readers once more. To Ryuen and Purple Mouse: my eternal gratitude for your astute criticisms and supportive enthusiasm. Oh, one more thing, Mouse-chan: A river called "De Nile," eh? You know, you're making my review page more interesting than the fic!

So back to "Bridge": Whither do we go from here? You might be a little taken aback by my reply, so hold on.

This is once again a warning from me that this is an M-rated story, written for adults by an adult. The next chapter will take us deeply into M territory, which _has_ happened in previous chapters of "Bridge." But it won't be violence and horror this time; instead, it will be adult sexual situations.

Yes, this is my Serious Erotica warning for those of you who may be disturbed by this subject material. This warning was last posted before the "Enchantment" chapter of "White Stones," so that's one indication as to what I'm talking about. Although I will _not _write NC-17 level graphic material, the events depicted in the upcoming chapter may still disturb younger and more sensitive readers. So please heed the age restriction and sensitivity cautions encompassed by the M-rating of this entire story.

I don't mean to sound so grim; in fact, I'm very much looking forward to writing the next chapter. I also feel that the material is much less traumatic than my violent stuff. However, I just want to make sure that I cover all warnings, since, as you well know, I'm not exactly the admin's favorite author on this site. :P

Okay, now that I've scared some of you away from the next chapter (and whetted the interest of others! :P), I'll leave you now so that I can get to work on that chapter RIGHT AWAY!

Ja ne!

Roku


	20. Beloved, gaze in thine own heart

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

This chapter contains quotes from the poem "The Two Trees," by William Butler Yeats, published in 1893 in the volume "The Rose."

Musical selection: "Ce he mise le unlaight?" from the CD "The Mask and the Mirror" by Loreena McKennitt

**Warning: This chapter contains strong adult content--specifically, adult sexual situations--that renders this chapter unsuitable for young or sensitive readers. Please heed the M-rating of this story, and avoid this chapter if such content will offend you.**

This chapter is dedicated to Kryssa, whose lovely singing voice inspired the Purification scene, and to CG, who has waited over two years for the publication of this chapter. Thank you, ladies, on behalf of Joss.

XxX

**Chapter 20. Beloved, gaze in thine own heart**

The figure stood waiting quietly outside the Shrine of Suzaku, head bowed. His clothes were clean but torn, dark in some areas where bloodstains had left their mark, while his silver-blue locks gleamed in the sunlight as they fluttered in the breeze. The ornate wooden door slowly creaked open, allowing a waft of scented smoke to escape, bringing a whisper of mystery out into the bright afternoon sun.

Four monks emerged from the shrine, two of whom were middle-aged men, their shaven scalps gleaming through salt-and-pepper stubble. The third monk's form was bent under the scourge of pain. He leaned heavily on a sturdy shakujou, resting his other hand on the shoulder of a young acolyte--but he was far from being a feeble old man. Lifting his deeply lined face to look across the courtyard, he gazed with alert, sparkling eyes at the strangely dressed man and woman standing near the monastery gates.

Joss looked away, suddenly ashamed of her ill-tempered scowl as she felt the Master's gentle wisdom rest upon her even at this distance. His keen gaze shifted to her left and paused, regarding the other visitor with an expression tinged with wonder. A gnarled hand squeezed the acolyte's shoulder, and the youth bowed deeply, subtly shifting his weight to support his master's bow. The Doctor met the Master's obeisance with a deep and reverent bow of his own. Obviously taken aback by the Master's action, the other monks hesitated--until a subtle gesture from the man turned them back towards the shrine to escort their guest into its hushed interior. The door creaked closed again, sequestering the ritual participants within.

The scent of incense lingered for a moment in the courtyard before dispersing in the fresh breeze. Joss clenched her fists at her side, her dark mood returning with the disappearance of the Master and Houjun.

"Joss, try not to be upset."

She kept scowling at the closed door, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze. "I just don't like it."

"Our exclusion from the ceremony isn't a personal slight. For the Monks of Suzaku, purification is a private ritual, closed to secular witnesses. In any case, it won't take long, and then--"

"That's not what I meant. Well, not all of it, anyway. I just don't see why Suzaku feels that Houjun needs to be purified. He didn't do anything wrong!"

"Joss, the powers that Magus taught Houjun to harness are not the powers of Good; you yourself have witnessed the evil effects of that kind of magic. But above all--and regardless of what Suzaku feels--Houjun himself wants the purification." The velvet tones darkened. "He feels that the Abyss has left its mark upon him, and he wants that brand erased."

"Fine, okay, _fine_; I can accept that. But did we have to take that side trip to Mrs. Toad's Wild Ride just so he could get that stupid mask?"

A deep sigh. "I do appreciate your honesty, but this is one of those times when it could do more harm than good. Apart from insulting the very wise and powerful Controller of this world, you are passing judgment on a decision that only Houjun can make. I thought you respected his intelligence enough to trust him." The mildness of the Doctor's tones did not completely obscure the rebuke.

Joss flushed guiltily. "I do! That's the problem: _I_ appreciate his intelligence when _he_ obviously doesn't. This mask makes him look like some vacant, happy simpleton! Why couldn't he choose a mask like his last one? That one looked more like the _real_ him. And—and why does he need a mask at all? We don't care about his scar; we love him just the way he is!"

There was a moment of silence, the sounds of the chirping birds and sighing branches fading beneath the weight of the knowledge that both had tried to suppress.

The Doctor spoke first. "But it's not about us, is it?"

"I know." Joss unsuccessfully fought her tears. "We're not gonna be here to support him, so he has to do the best he can on his own." She kicked disconsolately at the pebbled ground. "You always know the truth, don't you? You know the real reason I'm upset: it's because this is the beginning of the end. Yesterday, in the butterfly room, I felt like we were going to go on forever like that—the three of us, together forever. But today," she swallowed a sob, "today we're starting him on his way. Alone."

She waited for the Doctor to impart his usual words of wisdom and comfort but heard only silence. Perplexed, she lifted her tear-streaked face to his and was stunned to see searing pain in those blue-green eyes before he lowered his glance, hiding his thoughts. Joss flushed at her realization: Houjun wasn't the only one wearing a mask. She reached out and took the Doctor's hand, squeezing it apologetically. "Yeah, I'm Miss Sensitivity as usual, the center of my own universe. I bet you'll be glad to see the back of me."

"Actually, I won't." He lifted his face and smiled sadly at her. "It never gets easier, you know: all the goodbyes. You'd think that after all the times I've heard those words, I would take them in stride, but somehow I can't... It seems to me that my lives are linked together by a lattice of farewells—and sometimes I wonder if that's all..." His voice trailed off.

"No, it's not! Between the goodbyes are, 'Hello, I'm the Doctor. Watch out! Yes, I've saved your life, but think nothing of it. Oh, I've also saved your planet and solar system, repaired your damaged psyche, and cured your nail-biting habit. All in a day's work, my dear.'"

The Doctor finally laughed at Joss' expert imitation of his accent.

Joss grinned back at him. "That's better. Now that we've set Houjun on the right course, I don't need _you_ getting all brooding and melancholy."

The Doctor gave a secretive half-smile. "We're not quite finished with Houjun as yet; there are a few fine adjustments needed."

"Which means?"

"You'll see. To begin with, we're going to 'crash' the purification, in a manner of speaking."

Joss raised her eyebrows. "I thought that witnesses weren't allowed inside the--"

"Oh, we're not going to violate the monks' rules by witnessing the ceremony. We're just going to participate in a way. Now I can tell from your voice that you know how to sing; my question is, do you know how to sight-read?"

XxX

He knelt before the dais that supported the giant cauldron, firelight flickering across his masked face. Flames crackled around the fragrant wood stacked in the huge vessel, sending streamers of scented smoke drifting up to the opening in the vaulted ceiling. Beyond the dais stood a statue of Suzaku, the phoenix-god's golden wings spread wide as he reared up in challenge. The statue's ruby eyes reflected the firelight, seeming to glitter knowingly at the humbly dressed man before him.

The monks' voices rose in a rhythmic sutra of praise for their god. Houjun folded his hands in a meditative pose, feeling the mask settle into an expressionless façade instead of its usual demeanor of lips and eyes curved up in perpetual amusement.

A light touch on his arm signaled that the ceremony had begun. He bowed his head in response to the Master's silent instruction and removed the mask, laying the mystical item on the floor next to his ash staff. During this sacred ritual, one was expected to open one's heart and mind, hiding nothing, exposing all. Only then could the purification take full effect.

The young acolyte stepped behind Houjun and untied his hair, releasing the silvery blue locks to drift across his shoulders. Lifting a trembling hand, the youth plucked a single hair, not noticing the seishi's suppressed smile at his nervousness. The youth pattered up the dais and bowed, offering the hair to the middle-aged monk standing beside the cauldron.

The monk took a bamboo stick, lighting it in the holy fire and touching the small flame to the hair. The hair flared up, releasing a wisp of light grey smoke that spiraled up to the ceiling as if seeking escape.

The Master nodded, pleased. He leaned heavily on his shakujou, murmuring to the man kneeling beside him. "It is not severe; the standard purification will suffice."

Houjun raised his arms, signaling his readiness, but the Master shook his head. "Not yet. You need to meditate a while longer, Suzaku no Chichiri; there is yet much that clouds your thoughts. You must clear your mind and heart so that you can truly accept the purification."

The seishi frowned in confusion but obediently closed his eye, trying to join his mind to the prayers rising around him.

"No, that is not yet your way," the Master's gentle baritone sounded from above him. "Let your mind choose its own path."

Houjun bowed his head. He didn't completely understand what the Master wanted of him, but he released his mental control as ordered, slipping back into meditative thoughts as the chants flowed around him. He pondered the Master's words. Choosing his own path: wasn't that the reason he had stood fast against Taiitsukun's express wishes?

_Taiitsukun's beady eyes shone with satisfaction. "While we prepare your new mask, Nyan will show you to your quarters, Suzaku no Chichiri. Your training will begin tomorrow, as your god has decreed."_

_Out of the corner of his eye, Houjun saw Joss stiffen in shock as she stood beside the Doctor. _

"_No." He bowed respectfully before the startled Oracle. "Gomen nasai, Taiitsukun-sama, but I have chosen another path."_

"_You dare to defy your god by rejecting your destiny?" Taiitsukun's jowls quivered with rage._

"_No, Taiitsukun-sama. Suzaku has requested that I strengthen and purify myself spiritually, but he has not commanded that I do so at Mount Taikyoku. Right now, I need...a different path to peace. But rest assured that I will return here in due time."_

"_In due time!" Taiitsukun snarled. "You are insolent, Suzaku no Chichiri!"_

"_No, Taiitsukun-sama." Houjun's tones were unfailingly respectful. "Merely resolute--as a celestial warrior should be."_

_Taiitsukun paused, stymied by his logic, as Nyan managed to look both shocked and amused at the same time. The Oracle turned her wrath on the nearest object, pointing an accusing finger at the Doctor. "This is your doing, no doubt!"_

_The blue-green eyes widened innocently. "Chichiri has a mind of his own, as well you can see. However, if you choose to credit me for strengthening his resolve, I'm pleased to accept the honor. Thank you, Taiitsukun." And he bowed low, sweeping one hand across his breast in the courtly fashion that never failed to enrage her._

Houjun fought back a smile, amused at his memory of the Doctor's continual provocation of the Oracle. The time lord feared nothing and no one, and seemed to take particular enjoyment in needling powerful, egotistical beings. In some ways, he was as reckless and impetuous as Joss.

Joss.

For the past day, she had been subdued, not at all her normal self--and he knew who was to blame.

_Nyan glided forward with feline grace, holding out the scrap of flesh-colored material. He raised it to his face and fought down the initial thrill of fear when it covered him brow to chin: cool, clammy, and suffocating. But it soon melded to the warm skin beneath, shaping itself to the contours of his bones, opening over his mouth and nose so that he drew in a quick, gasping breath of relief. _

_Taiitsukun's hooded eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she gestured Nyan forward with the mirror. He gazed at his masked face, one part of him flinching in distaste, the other accepting his new appearance._

_It was unmistakably a mask, its smooth, smiling facade bearing no resemblance to the scarred features hidden beneath its surface._

_He turned to face the Doctor and Joss. Joss looked stunned, her shock changing rapidly to anger, but the Doctor merely gave a brief nod to show he understood._

Houjun felt pain flare in his breast. He had known the Doctor would understand the new mask, just as he had known that Joss would not. But had he been fair to her? In truth, he wasn't sure he could explain himself clearly--that it felt less dishonest to wear an obvious mask than to present a false version of his own face to the world, the innocent face of a man who had never hated or killed or bled. That reasoning sounded convoluted even to his own ears, so he had kept silent, turning away from her confused and questioning gaze.

But at this moment, he realized what his silence had wrought: he never would get the chance to explain it to her, for they had no more time. She would go on into her future, not understanding it, not understanding...him.

He opened his eye, blinking rapidly to force back the tears, surprised by the wave of grief that had overtaken him. He'd become so accustomed to having Joss and the Doctor by his side that he wasn't sure he knew how to go on without them. Suddenly, he missed them horribly, aching for their physical presence as if they had already gone, and he now stood alone. He felt as if they were slipping away, disappearing into the mists of memory--and something in him wanted to bolt out of the temple, run screaming into the courtyard and beg them not to leave, not to go, not to...forget.

_Don't forget me. Please._

At that moment, a deep, resonant note sounded through the temple, a mellow hum growing in intensity until a full-bodied chord rang throughout the entire monastery. It was rich and complex, a musical cry of passion and longing so intense that it brought tears to the eyes of all who heard it. He recognized it immediately: the Doctor's cello, speaking his heart, speaking _to_ his heart--and as the bow drew the lyrical melody forth, Houjun thought he had never heard anything so beautiful, so pure and emotional...until the woman's voice joined in.

_Beloved, gaze in thine own heart_

_The holy tree is growing there_

_From joy the holy branches start_

_And all the trembling flowers they bear_

_The changing colours of its fruit_

_Have dowered the stars with merry light_

_The surety of its hidden root_

_Has planted quiet in the night_

Joss' voice soared through the temple, its lush mezzo-soprano tones vibrant with emotion, blending with the harmony of the cello to create one perfect song of yearning love. The monks paused in their prayers, mesmerized by the beauty and passion of the music.

_The shaking of its leafy head_

_Has given the waves their melody_

_And made my lips and music wed_

_Murmuring a wizard song for thee_

Houjun trembled under the caress of her voice, her words that sang out her love for him, _their_ love for him--and he realized what they had been telling him all along. They would never forget him, for they loved him as much as he loved them.

Tilting his head back, he savored this moment, imprinting it on his memory for the days that loomed ahead. In the future, he would draw upon this memory for strength, even in his darkest hour--for now he knew he would never be truly alone.

He raised his arms in acceptance of the purification that would render him worthy of such love--and the Master signaled the younger monks to continue with the ritual. They approached Houjun and removed his clothing, stripping him of the garments whose folds were contaminated with residues of the dark power he had wielded in his recent battles.

Kneeling on the cold stone floor, he felt naked and humbled before the representatives of his god, yet warmed by the love song that flowed around him. He watched as his clothes were flung into the holy fire, the flames flaring high above the confines of the cauldron as they eagerly consumed the tainted garments. He could almost feel the darkness slipping from him, erasing the spiritual wounds inflicted by Kurayami, Maboroshi, and Magus.

Except...

Images rose in his innermost mind: a hand slipping beneath raging waters, a young woman crouched on a straw mat. Bitter grief rose once more in his heart, washing over the deep scars that no purification would ever expunge.

Once again, the rich voice soared to fill the temple, the melody darkening as if in concert with his thoughts.

_Gaze no more in the bitter glass_

_The demons with their subtle guile_

_Lift up before you as they pass_

_Or only gaze a little while_

_For there a fatal image grows_

_That the stormy night receives,_

_Roses half hidden under the snows,_

_Broken boughs and blackened leaves_

At a signal from the Master, the acolyte approached Houjun, holding a silver basin and a golden ladle. He bowed, offering the vessels to the Master. The Master dipped deep into the basin, then turned and lifted the ladle as if offering it to the statue of the phoenix god. Drops of clear liquid caught the lamplight, sparkling as they fell silently to the stone floor.

Turning back, he held the ladle in his trembling, knotted hands, the serenity of his features belying his obvious physical pain. He poured the water in a thin, shining stream upon the young man kneeling before him. Houjun clenched his teeth to keep from gasping at the cold sting of the purifying water.

_For all things turn to barrenness_

_In the dim glass the demons hold_

_The glass of outer weariness_

_Made when God slept in times of old_

_There, through broken branches, go_

_The ravens of unresting thought:_

_Flying, crying, to and fro, _

_Cruel claw and hungry throat_

The young acolyte lifted Houjun's damp blue hair, certain of himself this time, plucking another strand to present for the test. The flame hissed as it touched the silvery-blue thread, emitting a tiny, twisting strand of pure white smoke.

The Master nodded, and the acolyte ran to throw a white silk robe over Houjun's shivering form. The seishi pulled it closed, knotting the belt before bowing in gratitude before the servants of Suzaku.

_Or else they stand and still the wind_

_And shake their ragged wings, alas_

_Thy tender eye grows all unkind_

_Gaze no more in the bitter glass_

Joss' voice throbbed with yearning, pleading with him to keep his heart open despite the pain and betrayals of his past. She fell silent as the music of the cello rose up in her place, sweeping and lyrical.

Houjun felt the truth of her words resonate deep within him, and swallowed hard. Could he live up to that promise, leaving himself exposed, vulnerable to future heartache?

A strong hand grasped his chin, turning his face to look up into the compassionate gaze of the Master. The monk leaned on his stick, speaking low so that only Houjun could hear. "Bitterness is easy. Faith and trust—those take courage. But what other path should one choose? The heart that remains closed to pain is the heart that remains closed to life--and love."

Houjun's answer was soft and sad. "I think I understand, but--I'm so uncertain, Master. I feel as if I've come to the end of everything, and now I don't know where to go."

The Master stroked the damp blue locks. "You are not at the end, young Chichiri; you are at a crossroads. For the first time in your life, you have a multitude of choices instead of one narrow path. You have only to choose where your heart leads you, then follow that road with passion and hope."

He turned the young man towards the door, his gnarled hands surprisingly strong. "Go now, Suzaku no Chichiri--and seek your path."

"But...but I thought--"

"Return when you are ready; we shall always be here. Just be certain that the next time you return, it is your heart that leads you instead of your sense of duty." He handed the seishi his mask.

Houjun bowed respectfully, then squared his shoulders and stepped out into the blinding light.

XxX

Joss took a deep breath, feeling the music of the cello vibrate throughout her entire body, soothing her wounded spirit. It was a funny thing: the Doctor had asked her to sing for Houjun's sake, but in singing those words of love, she had brought herself to a kind of peace. She only hoped her song had helped Houjun as well.

A movement at the temple door caught her eye, and she looked across the courtyard, her mouth dropping open in shock. Her first irrational thought was that an angel stood there, clad in pure white, his garment shining as if lit from within. Behind his shoulders shimmered two glowing scarlet wings. She blinked, and the wings disappeared, a trick of the slanting rays of the afternoon sun.

It was Houjun, clad in a white silk robe, his smiling mask once more in place. However, his posture belied the calm confidence of the mystical face; it was hesitant, uncertain, as if he couldn't find his way back.

"Go to him." The velvet voice was low, yet Joss heard him as clearly as if he had shouted in her ear. The music continued, never skipping a beat. "Go to him, Joss, and show him..."

"Show him what?" Joss' throat was tight for some unknown reason.

"I..." The Doctor broke off, although the cello never faltered. He tried again. "I can restore his faith in life, but only you can restore his faith in love."

Joss paled, shaking her head. "You don't understand, Doctor. I don't think he wants--"

"Then stop thinking. He needs you, and I know that you need him as well."

Joss finally took in the slight tremble in the Doctor's voice--and her lips curved in gentle understanding. "He needs you just as much. Why don't you--?"

"That path is closed to me." The blue-green eyes met hers, a wry sadness in their depths.

Her own eyes softened in response. "Somehow, I think you know a hell of a lot more about love than you let on. I can feel it."

"Joss, this isn't about me," the Doctor interrupted, his voice holding an almost desperate edge. "This is about Houjun and you and last chances. Can't you see how lost he is at this moment?"

She looked up to see the smiling mask turn in their direction. Houjun took a few steps towards them but stopped as he picked up on the agitation in Joss's ki.

"I'm scared," she admitted in a whisper. "I don't know how to--"

"Just take his hand and walk with him." The Doctor tilted his head towards the woods that rose behind him. "Follow that path until you find..."

"Find what?"

"What you're looking for. Now go; I have a song to finish."

Tilting his head towards his cello once more, he pulled the notes out with long strokes of his bow. He raised his eyes and smiled at her, then lifted his voice, letting his clear tenor ring throughout the courtyard.

_Beloved, gaze in thine own heart_

_The holy tree is growing there,_

_From joy the holy branches start,_

_And all the trembling flowers they bear_

She finally understood: he was singing to her as well as to Houjun. His love for them strengthened her, giving her the courage to take the next step. She squared her shoulders and marched up to Houjun, taking his hand in a firm grip. The mask looked down at her, the strange features now showing bland surprise.

"Don't say a word," she said breathlessly. "Just come with me, and...don't say a word."

She pulled him after her as she walked rapidly towards the woods outside the monastery gates. His mask swiveled to look at the Doctor as they passed, but the time lord merely smiled a secretive smile and continued singing.

_Remembering all that shaken hair_

_And how the winged sandals dart_

_Thine eyes grow full of tender care_

_Beloved, gaze in thine own heart_

XxX

She held his hand in a vise-like grip, pulling him after her as she plunged through the trees, her swift pace forcing him to follow without thought or protest. He reached out to tentatively touch her ki but flinched back from the burning intensity of her aura. She was agitated, determined, as tense and battle-ready as a drawn bow--and he dared not ask why.

She stopped so suddenly that his free hand shot up, ready to cast a defensive spell at whatever had shocked her into immobility. He followed her line of sight only to see nothing more alarming than a tiny clearing in the dense woods, consisting of a small thatch of thick grass lit by the burnished rays of the late afternoon sun. His heart caught in his throat as he finally noticed the silk blanket spread upon the ground. A small distance away lay an elegant lacquered tray, upon which rested an assortment of jars and small baskets, hinting at refreshments contained within. It was a place that had obviously been prepared for them--and by the startled look on Joss' face, she was not the one who had prepared it.

Houjun swallowed, his heart beating rapidly in his throat. This magical place with its simple, sensuous comforts--it could only have been arranged by one person. And that meant...

Joss released his hand. "You know, you could turn and run right now." Her voice was husky and low. "We could _both_ turn and run, except... Of all that we've ever done, I think running away would be the one thing we could never forgive ourselves for." She kept her eyes fixed on her hands, clasped tightly together in a futile attempt to conceal their trembling.

He had never seen her so terrified, Houjun realized. She was terrified of him in a way that she had never been frightened of anyone--bandit, emperor, or madman--because she had just handed him the power to utterly destroy her.

A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirled through him. Awe, at her courage and the depth of her trust. Humility, that a person as extraordinary as her could give her heart to someone like him. A searing tenderness, as he held her love like a fragile butterfly in his open hand.

Deep within him rose a vibrant hum, a song without words or melody, an insistent, pulsing rhythm that beat in time with his heart.

Desire.

He went with it, flowed with it, allowing it to surge through him and around him, driving him swifter than conscious thought. Before he knew it, they were kneeling on the silken cover, her shoulders clasped in his fervent grip. He pulled her into him, exulting in the feeling of her body, the places she matched him and the places she differed. Her softness yielded to his hardness; her breath came in rapid, eager puffs in his ear; her arms, pliant but surprisingly strong, wound around him, holding him as fiercely as he held her.

They had no yesterdays and no tomorrows: only this one moment in time, this tiny, finite place where they could come together and offer each other everything they had to give.

_A place outside of space and time,_ whispered a velvet voice in his mind. In the distance, the sweet, musing notes of the cello rose and surrounded them, touching them as lightly as a whisper, a caress.

He pushed back from her to gaze into her face. Her eyes were dark, smoky with passion, lips parted and trembling. He leaned in to seize those lips but was startled when she drew back. Too late he remembered the mask, the mystical covering fitting him like a second skin. He knew that she hated it, so he reached up to tear away this last barrier--but she stopped him, catching his hand in her own.

"No, let me."

She touched his hairline, her lips curving in warm amusement as she brushed her fingers through his flyaway bangs. Ever since the confrontation with Magus, his hair had stubbornly refused to lie normally, instead rising defiantly skyward as if crackling with energy. He glanced away, slightly embarrassed.

"I like it," whispered Joss, surprising him by answering his thoughts.

She caressed the edge of his mask, murmuring soft words, too soft for him to hear--and to his surprise, the mask responded, detaching itself from his face. She turned and laid it gently to one side, treating it with unexpected care as she smiled at his questioning glance. "It's part of you now, so I don't hate it anymore, but--" She leaned forward, catching his face in her hands, moving her lips against his forehead. "You can hide from the world, but you can't hide from me."

He felt her lips trail down to his left eyebrow. Suddenly self-conscious, he tried to pull back, but she held him fast as her lips traveled, feather-light and gentle, along the rough surface of his scar. All the while, she breathed a litany of rapid, breathless words. "You're beautiful; I love you; you will always be beautiful to me. Don't hide from me; just trust me. Trust that I love you, the beautiful man you truly are." She pulled back and smiled at him, still holding his face, her eyes shining with tenderness and an emotion too deep for tears.

In that moment, he believed her. For the first time in years, in the warmth of her gaze, he felt strong, confident, secure in who and what he was. With that confidence, he pulled her close, unashamed that she could feel him hard against her through the thin silk of his white robe.

He seized her lips, plunging his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth, taking possession of her as his hips rocked against her, seeking an even deeper possession. His hands caressed her breasts, feeling their hardened peaks even through the thick material of her tunic. He broke off the kiss, growling in impatience at the barriers remaining between them. In one swift movement, he pulled her tunic over her head, fumbling in frustration at the contraption that still held her breasts away from him.

_"Hanase, ima!"_ he commanded, and the material fell away, revealing her small, heavy breasts. They curved into his hands, as if they had been made for his touch. He rubbed his thumbs over their puckered tips, enjoying their warm weight, enjoying the gasps and shudders he drew from her. He responded with shudders of his own as excitement flared deep in his center. He ducked his head, kissing and sucking gently at her throat, his hands dropping down to pull at the stubborn toggles of her trousers--gods, would they _never_ free themselves of these damnable clothes!

"Whoa, boy; down, Tiger!" Joss' voice was choked with laughter as she fended off his hands.

Houjun drew back, shocked. Didn't she want--?

"Of course I want you! In fact, I've wanted you far longer than you've wanted me; a truth for which I'm going to," her voice dropped into a throaty purr, "make you pay."

"Make me pay?"

She pushed him, and he fell back onto the silk blanket, unbalanced as much by his own confusion as the pressure of her hand against his chest. She straddled him on her knees, her weight pressing lightly on his pelvis, pinning him beneath her.

"Yes." Joss was smug now, completely unselfconscious of her naked breasts right in his line of sight. The passion flared in Houjun, and he reached up impulsively only to have his hand batted away once more.

"Not yet. First you have to ask me a few questions." Joss caught the lapels of his robe, running her fingers gently between the silk and his skin.

"Questions?" His mind faltered under the pleasurable shivers her fingers were drawing from him.

"Yes, like, 'How long have I wanted you?'" Joss moved her hands to his belt.

"How long...ah!" He gasped as Joss unfastened the knot in his belt with one swift tug.

"From the moment I first saw you. Do you want to know when that was?" She was slowly pulling the robe open.

Houjun nodded, his throat too dry for words.

"It was the morning after the Doctor rescued you from the river. You were in the hot spring, and I was in the lilacs, watching you. Do you want to know what I saw?" Her hands brushed over his skin, stroking him as lightly as feathers.

Houjun struggled to form a coherent thought, her smirk bringing back a dim memory. "Everything?"

"Ye-es...but not all at once. First, I saw," Joss leaned over him, her fingers brushing back strands of hair over his temples, her whisper tickling his ear, "your face." She traced one finger along the edge of his ear, then bit his earlobe gently.

"Unh!" He couldn't help it; he arched up into her, his hips thrusting helplessly.

"Mm-hm," Joss sat up, trying to look smug, but her eyes were burning with desire. "Yes, I know. I know you, Celestial Warrior Chichiri: all of your secrets, all of that sensuality you keep locked away. I know that you _feel_ things--_deeply_--and I'm going to take you as deep as you can go."

Houjun gasped for breath, trying to match her sensual playfulness. "You'll be sorry when I disgrace myself all over your pretty trousers."

"You won't do that." She grinned down at him. "You're a celestial warrior--with celestial control. But if I _break_ that control, I win."

"Win what?"

"I'll think of something." Joss tilted her head thoughtfully. "Now where was I? Oh, yes, the first time I saw you..."

She leaned back slightly, her flanks rubbing against his hardness. She pulled the robe down over his shoulders, running her hands over the swelling muscles of his deltoids, tracing the defined line where they curved into his biceps. Her caresses aroused delicate nerve endings, making every tiny hair on his body rise up in response.

"...the next thing I saw were your shoulders. Then, as you rose further out of the spring, I saw your chest." She ran her fingers lightly over his collarbone, then traced his pectorals until she brushed the dark, raised circles that ached for her touch--taut, aroused, _needing_...

"Gods!" His body rocked madly under the pulsating waves of sensation, his violent response flinging Joss forward. She took advantage of her position, her face pressed against his chest, her tongue flicking at his nipples, teasing, her teeth lightly scraping him. Sparks fired along every nerve in his body, lifting him up, sending an urgent tension rising in him until he knew there was very little time. In desperation, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her up.

She opened her eyes and grinned, slightly abashed. "Went a little too far that time, didn't I? We both almost lost it."

"Good thing that I have 'celestial control,'" he replied breathlessly, making her laugh.

"Yeah, good thing, but the time for control has nearly passed."

"Has it?" he rasped around the sudden tightness in his throat.

She nodded, retreating until she was straddling his thighs. The smile suddenly disappeared from her face. "I'm nearly finished with my story." Now serious, she let her passion blaze forth--pure, raw, an almost animal hunger shining in her eyes. She pulled his robe completely open, pooling the silk around his hips, exposing him completely.

He shuddered, buffeted by conflicting emotions: embarrassment, pride, desire, vulnerability. Her fingers traced his ribs, taking away his self-consciousness, replacing it with pure sensation.

"I saw your waist," she murmured thickly. "I saw these muscles," running her hands over his sculpted abdomen, "and then I saw..."

Her hand stroked lower, her fingers weaving through the soft, silvery-blue curls at his groin. He groaned at the intensity of his anticipation, burning with an aching, searing need. Just when he thought he couldn't bear another second, she reached lower and grasped him firmly, her hand sliding along his wet, slippery length.

"Oh, _gods!_" He wasn't sure which one of them had cried out first, but they were locked together now, his hands pulling her close as she continued to stroke him, her words rushing out in a torrent that matched the fire racing through his blood.

"Oh, God, you're so beautiful, so perfect; oh my God, I can't believe you! The way you feel, your skin... I can feel the way you want me as much as I want you, and I _can't wait!"_

She pushed away violently, breaking out of his grasp, moving swiftly below his line of sight...then he felt her mouth close around him.

He might have screamed in ecstasy; he didn't know, caught up in the sensations that crashed through him, leaving him spinning helplessly in their powerful grasp. Her mouth--warm, firm, wet--pulled at him, exploring him, rousing dormant nerves into furious, frenzied life. He bucked under her passionate assault, his hands clutching at the blanket beneath him. Through its soft folds, he could feel clumps of grass squeezed in his grip, a grip that spasmed in response to pressure building in his center, lifting him, igniting him...

_"No!"_ He reared up and grasped her shoulders, forcing her away from him.

She gazed at him in foggy surprise. "What's wrong?" Her eyes were heavy-lidded with passion, her lips swollen, her features glistening with tiny beads of sweat. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, oh gods, no! It's just that--you're not sending me there alone."

"Alone?" She was slow to understand him, still stunned by passion, those bruised and reddened lips arousing warm, wet feelings deep within him.

It flooded his entire being, this dominating force, this aggressive need to overpower her, take her, and make her his own. He pushed her back onto the blanket, breathing out a spell that released the ties on her trousers. He plunged his hands down into the silk, pulling the garment off her, stripping her of all concealment, revealing her secrets to his burning gaze.

He raked her body with that gaze, letting his eye wander slowly, deliberately over her curves, her rounded contours, her half-hidden folds. She flushed under the intensity of his stare, squirming in sudden embarrassment. "Look, Houjun, I know that I'm not beautiful --"

He silenced her by seizing those tantalizing lips, licking along their full contours, plunging his tongue into her warm depths until she responded, growing pliant in his grasp. "Listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "Never say those words again. You're as beautiful to me as I am to you—"he paused, trying to think of a way to erase the wry doubt in her eyes.

The far-off music of the cello throbbed in a muted pizzicato passage, the fingers of the hidden musician plucking short, breathy notes from the rich instrument. _Sometimes it is better to show than to tell,_ whispered a distant voice in his head.

He pulled her up before him, turning her body so that her back rested against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and grasped her wrists lightly, then moved so that his lips were even with her ear. "Let me show you what I see when I look at you."

He touched her hands to her hair, running their intertwined fingers through the tangled waves. "Brown silk," he said. "Soft and wild, just like you." Bringing her fingers to her face, he lightly traced circles around her eyes, pausing near her temples. "Clear mirrors into your soul, always holding out the truth for the world to see. Right now, they're brimming with so much passion," he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "that I could almost come just from looking into their depths."

She shuddered and moaned at his words, struggling to reach down, touch, and hold him. But he kept his firm grasp on her hands, forcing them back towards her own body. He trailed her fingers over her collarbone, then drew them down between her breasts. "Silken skin," he said, as he cupped her hands around her own breasts. "Beautiful, can't you see? Can't you feel their softness, heaviness," he brushed his own fingers over her hardened peaks, "hardness, sensitivity?" She moaned again under his touch, pushing her hips against him.

"I'm getting there," he promised. He trailed her fingers down past her ribs, pausing at the soft mound of her belly. "Everything here is moving, fluttering, responding to me...calling to me." He drew her fingers through her own dark curls--then suddenly released her.

"No," he growled, his voice raspy with passion. "This is for me alone." He stroked deep into her hidden folds, his fingers gentle but insistent, sliding into her, playing her, drawing out the music of her gasps and soft cries. She threw her head back against his shoulder, her cries intensifying, going higher as she writhed against him, rocking against his fingers--until suddenly she pushed away from him.

"No," she choked, flashing him a trembling grin over her shoulder. "Two can play at this game. I'm not going there without you, either." She twisted around to face him, seeking his lips--and her hand slid down between their bodies, grasping him where he pressed hard against her thigh.

They groaned into each other's mouths, shocked at the overwhelming pleasure of this simple touch. She leaned back on the blanket, pulling him towards her. He followed eagerly, surging over her as she guided him to the intense liquid heat between her thighs. He gazed deep into her eyes as he pushed deeper into that warmth, pulsing against her, seeking to move close, closer, even closer still...

The music was suddenly right there with them, carrying clear across the distance to surround them. The wild, sweeping melody drove them, pushing him, _pushing_...

Her eyes opened wide, her lips parting in a breathless 'Oh!' of wonder, reflecting his own amazement. This was it. They were joined, and nothing had _ever_ prepared him for this! Her body enveloped him, tight around him, sending delicate shivers of ecstasy up his spine. Oh gods, had anything in his life ever felt so _right? _Her legs tangled with his, her wet warmth surrounding him, her breath puffing warm and sweet on his cheek as she traced her fingers in urgent, erotic patterns on his back.

He moved slowly, sensually within her, savoring the rush of sensation from each stroke, the arousing feel of her breasts pressed against him, the hot dampness of her skin against his. But the delicate sensuality began to disintegrate in the heat of the fire burning deep within him: hungry, devouring, driving him forward with insatiable need. His strokes turned into urgent thrusts, increasing in speed and intensity. She mirrored his urgency, picking up his rhythm, encouraging him with whispers and caresses.

He felt it building in him again, that growing pressure, that molten fire raging through his veins--but no, he refused to leave her behind! He was determined to bring her to ecstasy, but he didn't know how close she was or how to... He damned his inexperience, reading her pleasure in her glowing face but not knowing how to drive her beyond that point, to the rapture that he could feel growing in his entire body--

_Open yourself,_ urged that inner voice. _Open your minds to one another; touch each other, share everything._

He slowed his rhythm, caressing her face and turning it to meet his gaze. He reached out with his ki, lightly touching the barrier that veiled her personal thoughts, asking silently, gently, for this ultimate joining. She flushed even deeper but smiled her assent, cupping his face in her hands and drawing his forehead to rest against hers. He reached in with his mind, carefully, slowly...

...and shuddered violently, nearly losing control as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of sensuality, his every motion bringing another wave that diffused throughout his entire body, making even his fingertips and scalp tingle with delight. He couldn't believe how _good_ she felt; how good he was _making_ her feel. Her pleasure mingled with his, twining around him until he almost lost himself in her.

Almost--but he could still tell the difference. Her pleasure was more diffuse than his, spread evenly throughout her entire body, while the rising, focused tension belonged to him alone. Not for long, he vowed to himself. He began to read her, using the thrills of sensation she reflected back at him as a guide to his own movements.

_There. And there._

Her mouth dropped open as she sucked in a surprised breath.

_Good. Try again. Again._

The music swept around them, rising in a passionate swell, matching the sweet urgency of their dance. She gasped and arched against him, seeking, _reaching..._

A little deeper. Harder. Right there. _There._

_Now._

"Houjun!" she screamed, her body convulsing against his, tightening around him, sending jolt after jolt of ecstasy arcing through his entire body. He fought it one last time, thrusting deeply once, twice before surrendering, letting the incandescence burst through him, shouting in joy as he poured himself into her. Holding her tightly, he shuddered in her arms, riding the aftershocks of their explosive climax, feeling her aftershocks as she spasmed around him. With every pulse, he whispered her name as a prayer, an incantation of gratitude and tenderness.

The rapture stayed with them, holding them breathless, locked together, until gradually they returned to earth, filled with a muted, sensual glow. He felt the tautness fade from his body, yet he stayed with her, reveling in the warmth of her skin, the soft touch of her lips against his. Finally he slipped from her, rolling on his side and pulling her close so that she rested comfortably in his arms. Lightly caressing her, he coaxed the tension from her body so that she drifted with him in a state of semi-conscious bliss.

In the distance, unheard by the lovers, the cello finally hummed one low, last note that spiraled up to unravel in the light breeze. The musician leaned wearily against the warm wood, the bow slack in his grip, damp curls clinging to his brow and a small smile trembling on his curved lips.

XxX

"You know, I won."

"Won what?" He rolled his shoulders gently, careful not to dislodge her while enjoying the bone-deep languor of muscles wearied in intimate battle.

"I broke your celestial control. I'm the champ!"

He felt her grin against his chest, and smiled up into the deepening shadows. "Hmph. As I recall, I broke your control first."

She sat up, her eyes sparkling in the last red rays of the setting sun. "So you're saying I'm _not_ the champ?"

"I didn't say that. I just said I got you first."

"Hmm..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then broke into a wicked smile. "I demand a rematch: best two out of three!"

"Oh, dear Suzaku!" He laughed out loud. "Even a celestial warrior has his limits, Joss."

"Limits, huh?" she repeated dreamily. "I can't say that I noticed any limits earlier, but," she brushed her fingers across his knee where the sign of _sho_ flickered dimly, "I did notice this. Did you know that you glow when you--?"

He rose up on his elbows and grinned back at her. "No, I didn't, but I can honestly say that I wasn't paying much attention to my knees."

"True." She leaned forward and kissed him, then frowned. "Your lips are dry. Thirsty much?"

"Mm-hm. But don't worry, I'll..."

"Too late." She had already risen and was rummaging through the jars and baskets at the edge of their clearing. She held up a ceramic jar, its surface gleaming with cool drops of condensation. "Here you go, Celestial Warrior Chichiri. One quick drink, then let the rematches begin!"

"It's going to take more than that," he growled in mock exasperation as he accepted the jar from her. Gods, had water ever tasted so cool and sweet? He shivered as he quenched his thirst, his body humming with the onslaught of so many sensual pleasures.

"Well, well, well, where did he find _these_ so late in the season?"

Houjun looked up to see Joss grinning at him, a tiny, ruby fruit held delicately between her fingers. "Wild strawberries, Houjun!" She slipped it between her teeth. "Want one?"

He was on her in a flash, his arms holding her fast as his tongue snaked around hers. He withdrew just as quickly, retreating to the blanket as she gasped for air.

"You stole my strawberry!"

He grinned, the fruit gripped lightly between his teeth. "Come and try to take it back."

She got up, but at that moment he bit into it, letting the pleasure spread across his face as its taste and fragrance filled his senses.

"Mmm, you're too slow. But it was very sweet and _very_ good!"

"That's it!" She straddled him, tickling his sides until his mouth dropped open in laughter. She seized his lips, taking possession of his mouth.

"Mmm, you're right: that _is_ good. You taste wonderful." She sat up, smiling. "And guess what? Somebody's ready for round two. I'm impressed!"

"Don't be. The flesh may be willing in some places, but it's still pretty tired in others."

"Well, then," her teeth gleamed in the evening light, "I guess I'll go down with the sun."

"What do you mean by--Oh, _gods!"_

XxX

"That was wonderful."

"Incredible."

"Unbelievable."

"Amazing."

A deep, indrawn breath from the two bodies entangled in the bright moonlight.

"I can't move."

"Neither can I."

"I mean, I don't think I'm moving _ever_ again. The grass and flowers will just have to grow around me, because I can't lift a muscle to budge from this spot."

"Well, you won't be lonely, because I'll be right here with you. Not moving."

A long pause, followed by a muffled giggle. "I should've known you'd be a screamer. It's always the quiet ones."

"So how do you explain your own screams? You're not exactly known for your shy personality."

"Oh, let's just say I was inspired."

"I won't argue that. But I have to admit you surprised me. I didn't expect you to be a biter." He shifted one shoulder.

She sat up in horror. "Did I _really?" _She traced the darkening bruise in the smooth expanse beneath his collarbone, the small indentations visible even in the moonlight. "Oh God, I'm so sorry! I never meant to hurt you!"

He pulled her back into his arms. "Don't worry, it didn't hurt that much. In fact, it was almost...stimulating." He smiled as he felt her burrow into his warmth. "And you don't have to keep calling me 'God'."

He felt her body shake with laughter. "At the risk of turning you into a hopeless narcissist, I have to say that the title was fairly earned. How many times did we--?"

"I lost count. Four, maybe?"

"Wanna go for five?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Yeah," she yawned. "My spirit is willing, but my flesh..."

"Mine even more so. Let's just rest a moment, all right?"

She snuggled deeper into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his skin warm and smooth against hers. "Okay, but only for a moment, because I don't want to fall asleep."

"Mmm, fine, we won't sleep."

A long silence as two hearts beat in synchrony with one another. The wind rustled through the clearing, sighing a soft lullaby of trembling leaves and whispering grasses.

"Mmmm, Houjun?"

"Hmmm?"

"We're not asleep, are we?"

"No, of course not." He yawned and pulled her closer.

The moon sank beneath the trees, leaving the night to hold the lovers in its concealing embrace. An owl tilted its head in a nearby tree, hooting a soft question at the strange intruders in its domain. It flapped its wings and retreated on its branch, startled by another intruder moving silently toward the entwined forms.

He held out a small bundle, snapping it so that the breeze unfurled the folds of a shawl woven in the light of a distant star. He settled it gently over the lovers, its gossamer silk caressing their skin so that they smiled in their sleep.

And if his fingers lingered on their smooth skin, sharing in their human warmth for one brief moment--no one would ever know, for the owl would never tell.

XxX

XxX

**Credits:** Italics indicated quotations from the poem "The Two Trees" by William Butler Yeats, published 1893.

x

**Author's Note: (11-13-04)** Sleep well, lovers. _Oyasumi nasai._

Thank you once again to Ryuen and Purple Mouse for their supreme efforts in beta-reading.

Next time: After almost two and a half years, the conclusion of "Bridge Over the Abyss."

Ja ne,

Roku


	21. To love with two hearts

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical Selection: "The Promise" by Secret Garden from their CD "Once In a Red Moon."

Acknowledgment: Once again, my deepest gratitude to Ryuen and Purple Mouse, for their persistent excellence and supremely rapid turn-around time as editors—and for their limitless support as friends.

This chapter is dedicated to that underappreciated hero of this website: the faithful and dedicated reviewer. In my case, this is for a fellow writer who has followed me from fic to fic, and who has always given me her emotional impressions and endless encouragement for _every single__ chapter_ without fail, being the first and often only reviewer for days at a time. Tenshi Kitsune, aka Wingstar 23—this one's for you, with my heartfelt thanks.

* * *

**Chapter 21. To love with two hearts…**

The faint light of dawn seeped between the trees, exhaling the new day's warmth, sending the last of the night's chill fleeing in spiraling tendrils of mist. He slept soundly beneath the shawl, warmed by the gossamer folds of silk and the body curled at his side.

The body stirred and stretched beside him, yet he did not awaken, adrift in the sensuous slumber known to new lovers. Another, more forceful movement jostled him, pushing him to slightly higher levels of consciousness; he still slept but now trod the shallower waters of dreams and memories. He grasped the soft, feminine form that was gently trying to escape his embrace, pulling her into him and nestling against her warm curves. A few vague thoughts drifted half-formed through his somnolent mind.

Soft. Warm. Woman.

Love.

"Kouran," he murmured into her hair…then slipped back beneath the surface of his consciousness, so deeply asleep that he never felt the drops of moisture falling on his chest like the last warm rain at summer's end.

* * *

Once again he swam up towards consciousness, roused by the bright morning light shining behind his closed eyelid. He shivered with pleasure, enjoying the feel of her fingers tracing light patterns across his skin.

"Mmm…I could see myself waking like this every morning for the rest of my life."

She laughed, the huskiness of her voice stroking him like a warm caress. "That could be arranged, Master Magician. Especially if you don't mind sleeping outside every night."

He rolled over on his side and opened his eye, smiling up at her. She wore his white silk robe belted loosely around her waist—and she had never looked more beautiful. Her hair was tousled around her face, its dark waves gleaming in the burnished light; her eyes shone with love and something else, something deep and undefinable.

A wave of emotion tightened his throat. "We could…we would share a cup of tea and talk about our plans for the day."

"I'm way ahead of you." She handed him a cup of jasmine tea, the tiny white flowers swirling among the fragrant wisps of steam. He sat up and sipped it gratefully, grasping her free hand as she batted her eyelashes playfully over the rim of her own cup. "So what would our plans be? Gathering herbs, traveling to different towns…saving Konan?"

"Well, that is my chosen path, a path I'm willing to share."

"Good thing too, since you'll have so many seishi brothers sharing it with you." She looked across the clearing, past the silvery grey trees and lush greenery, her eyes distant as if she were gazing into the future. "Come to think of it, you could use another female in that group. The poor Priestess of Suzaku is gonna be waaaay overrun by all that testosterone." She grinned as a thought crossed her mind. "Except for Nuriko, of course."

He gripped her hand tighter. "_I _would need you as well."

Something flashed in her eyes before she dropped her gaze, hiding her thoughts. Her voice was carefully light. "Not to mention, someone's gonna have to keep that brat Shun'u in line."

He laughed. "You see? It will be a marvelous adventure!"

"And after we've summoned Suzaku and saved the world?"

Now it was his turn to gaze into the distance. "We'll find someplace peaceful and beautiful, with trees and fields and streams jumping with fish—"

"Don't forget the strawberry patch."

"Of course not. And I'll build you a house, not too big…

"With a white picket fence."

He met her wistful look with a smile, taking their teacups and placing them on the ground. "If you like. Anything you like. Then we'll start a family—"

"With two-point-five perfect children—"

Now he looked startled. "How can you have half a child?"

"Never mind, it's a silly joke from my world. Go on."

"And we'll watch them grow, and teach the girls that they're just as smart as the boys…"

"And have their father put on the neighborhood magic show each summer…"

"And after they're grown, we'll sit together in the sunset and grow old…"

"Until we have to crawl on our arthritic old knees to reach each other in bed."

They laughed, sharing in the joy of the simple dream. Suddenly she leaned forward and caught his lips, taking his breath away with the sweet tenderness of her kiss. She moved her lips gently against his…then just as gently released him. As she drew back, he saw that her brown eyes sparkled with tears.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you for sharing that with me. Wherever I go in my life, whatever I do…I'll always have that dream of perfect love to keep in my heart—to keep me strong." Her voice faltered, and she turned away, fumbling with the teacups.

Her voice rose again in forced cheerfulness. "But now we have to get ready to go. It's time to get thee to a monastery, as they say."

He lunged forward and caught her shoulders in a fierce grip, pulling her tight against him and seizing her lips. His kiss was hard and frantic, flavored with desperation and grief. She kissed him just as passionately, clinging to him as if she could meld them together by desire alone. They finally broke their kiss, but he kept her tight against him, feeling her heart hammer wildly against his as he buried his face in her neck. He gasped, trying to form words around the searing pain in his breast.

"I've made some terrible mistakes in my life," he finally choked. "Tragic mistakes, mistakes that have cost lives—so why do I feel certain that letting you go is the worst mistake of all?"

"It's not." She pushed back to look into his face, and forced a smile through her welling tears. "It's not a mistake. We have a saying in my world, Houjun: Timing Is Everything. And the truth is that our timing is horribly off. You have years of spiritual training ahead of you, training that you need to save your country, while I—my family must be tearing Tokyo apart looking for me. But that's not the real reason I'm leaving."

She traced his features with her fingertips, her eyes shining with the honesty he so loved. "I can't come in second to any woman in your life—not even if she's a ghost. _Especially_ not if she's a ghost. And the heart of Ri Houjun still belongs to Kouran."

He felt bitter pain lance through him at the truth of her words, the truth that stood like an unbreachable wall between them. But there was another truth she needed to realize. "I do love you, you know."

"Yes, I know." She smiled sadly, her tears now spilling over. "Just…not enough."

"But listen," she went on, her voice soft with faint hope. "Time has a funny way of changing things. Who knows? Maybe someday, if God and Suzaku are good, we'll meet again. Maybe then, your heart will be free—"

Joss faltered, then, taking a deep breath, placed her hands on his chest and stared intently into his tearful gaze. "But even if we never get that second chance, it won't change the way I feel. You see, my heart doesn't belong to Ri Houjun, the boy who loves Kouran. My heart belongs to the scarred and wounded warrior Chichiri. No matter what lies in my future, I will always think of myself as..." Her voice rose, ringing through the air like a promise, an eternal vow. "...from this day onward, I, Josselin Kristin Nagano-Kern, will always be—Chichiri's Girl."

Celestial Warrior Chichiri knelt before his lady and pressed her hands to his trembling lips, humbled by her courage and unwavering love. She ran her fingers though his soft, silvery-blue locks, savoring this single crystal moment in which she stood foremost in his heart above all.

But her strength receded in the face of her aching need to hold him close at least once more. Sinking down before him, she tilted his chin up with one finger as she assumed a shaky but impudent grin. "We have another saying in my world, Suzaku no Chichiri: 'One For The Road.' What do you say?"

His answer was swift and silent, as he seized her and tumbled her over into the soft grass. Their laughter rose into the cloudless sky, sparkling like tears in the bright morning sun.

* * *

Three figures stood in the courtyard of the monastery, conversing in hushed voices as if it were late evening instead of mid-afternoon. _Past and future,_ thought Suzaku acolyte Chichiri, fighting the pain in his breast as he watched them from the shadows of the main temple. Before he began his spiritual training in the service of his god, he was required to close the gates on his former life—and he knew that nothing Suzaku had ever before asked of him compared to the difficulty of this final task.

A light breeze lifted his bangs and fluttered his brilliant scarlet robes as if urging him onward. He swallowed hard, looking for some way to hold on to his composure before stepping out into their view. The words of the Master echoed in his mind: _One inch ahead…and all is total darkness._ So be it. Why should he fear the darkness, he who had lived in it for so many years? Life was uncertain, changeable in a heartbeat; he knew that better than most. But life's uncertainty had held no fears while he had stood with the people he loved.

That thought propelled him out into the blinding sunlight, fleeing the choking grief that followed hard on his every thought. Best to get this over with—swift and bitter, like a knife-thrust to the heart.

Only Joss looked startled at his sudden, rapid entrance; the Doctor and the Master merely smiled, their expressions uncannily mirroring each other in wise understanding. Chichiri made a deep and respectful obeisance to the Master, hoping that he would regain control of his breathing before either man noticed.

The Master placed his hand on Chichiri's newly shorn hair. "Come and see me when you are finished. We will talk." He turned and bowed to the Doctor, who responded with a bow of equal respect, then made his painful, dignified way back to the temple, clinging tightly to his sturdy shakujou.

Joss forced a cheeky smile. "Hey, nice threads."

Chichiri blushed. "Red isn't really my color, but there's no other choice for Suzaku acolytes."

She reached up and playfully brushed the close-shaven hair on his skull. "You gotta admit, though, the hair's really you."

He laughed. "It's a strange thing, but my bangs kept slipping away from the razor, as well as the little length of hair in the back. Finally, the barber threw up his hands and said it was Suzaku's will, and stomped out."

"Troublemaker," teased Joss, then suddenly looked away, blinking rapidly.

The Doctor broke the awkward silence by clearing his throat. "We have something for you." He nodded at Joss, and she ran a short distance to a nearby tree, bringing back a slender wooden pole that had rested against its trunk. Smiling at Chichiri, she handed him the pole.

He grasped it, startled to feel a familiar hum of power. "My ash staff! But how did you—?"

"We machined it in the TARDIS wood-working room—don't ask," Joss replied with careful cheerfulness. "We figured that it's done such a good job for you over the years, it would be a shame to lose it."

Chichiri looked over at the Doctor, wondering whether this gift violated the monastery rules of abandoning all of his earthly possessions. Not to mention its role in his forbidden powers.

The Doctor smiled mischievously, easily reading his thoughts. "The Master says he never noticed us bringing anything in, and it's unlikely that any of the other monks will contradict him. Oh, and when you complete your training, it's quite possible that you will find that the staff fits nicely into the finial head of your new shakujou."

Chichiri tightened his fingers around the pole, taking comfort in the familiarity of its smooth wood. This was so much like them, to give him something to hold onto in the lonely days ahead.

But now it was time—and he was man enough to take the final steps himself. "I guess this is it." His voice resonated with warmth and regret and a surety he didn't feel.

Joss met his gaze with a trembling smile. "Yep, this is it," she said softly, staring intently at him as if she were memorizing his features, carving his picture on her heart. "See, I promised I wouldn't go all weepy on you. I promised you—" Her voice broke as her control fell apart, and she turned and fled, running blindly all the way back to the TARDIS, which stood blue and cryptic outside the monastery gates.

Fighting his own tears, Chichiri watched her fumble with the doors until she disappeared inside. "You will look after her, won't you?" He kept his eyes fixed on the closed doors.

"I'll see her safely home, I promise."

He didn't think he could possibly feel any more pain, but he was wrong. It felt as if his heart was being slowly torn apart one fiber at a time. He forced his eyes up through a haze of red—and met a calm, blue-green gaze that somehow soothed the turmoil in his breast.

As it had from the beginning. As it never would again.

Without realizing it, he had stretched his hand out to the Doctor, as if he could hold this man—hold onto this moment in time and never let it end. His hand was grasped warmly and turned upward, and he instinctively closed his fingers around the small, hard objects that were suddenly pressed into his palm.

"Another gift," murmured the velvet voice.

Chichiri stared down at the handful of white squares, each the size of the center of his palm, their surfaces as smooth and hard as marble but extremely lightweight. For some reason, he had difficulty counting them.

"It's a transdimensional message cube. If you ever have need of me, all you need to do is assemble the pieces into a multidimensional cube, transmit your thoughts—and I will receive them in the TARDIS, whenever and wherever I might be."

Chichiri tried to fit the pieces together, but they fell apart in his palm. "Doctor, I don't know how to—"

"When you have need of me, you will know. Of course, I'm not allowed to assist you in your mission to summon Suzaku, but at any other time—"

"What about next week?" Chichiri fought to keep the quaver from his voice. "You could stop by, we could talk…" he imitated the Doctor's accent, "…have a cuppa tay."

The Doctor laughed. "You'll be too busy studying the ways of Suzaku to think of me. After that, you'll be training with Taiitsukun, and gathering your fellow warriors—"

"And you'll be busy saving another universe…or maybe just one man's soul."

They smiled at one another, sharing one last moment of perfect understanding. Finally the Doctor reached out and warmly squeezed Chichiri's hand. "Take care of yourself, Houjun," he whispered, his words a tender blessing. He turned and strode through the monastery gates.

Chichiri watched the Doctor walk away, taking in his confident gait, the velvet coat swaying behind him—and the sense of finality hit him like a blow. This wasn't like the other times; this really, truly was the last time that he would ever see the Doctor.

There were no more chances.

Before he knew it, he was running full-out, his robes fluttering behind him and his sandals slapping against the smooth stones, sliding in the dust. "Doctor! Doctor, _wait!"_

The time lord turned, a surprised expression crossing his features as Chichiri caught his arm, holding onto him fiercely as if he were afraid that the Doctor would disappear within his grasp.

"I can't let you go!" he gasped. Chichiri swallowed and with an effort, regained his breath. "Not without telling you something—something important."

He began to speak in a soft, emotional voice. "From the time I was very young, I'd always wondered what it would be like to have a father. I know that I had the best mother anyone could ever hope for, so I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I would watch the other children and…I would wonder." He went on, his voice growing stronger with every phrase. "Then, when I was a young man betrothed to Kouran, I wondered what _sort_ of father I would be. You see, I never knew—I didn't know _how_."

Chichiri looked into the Doctor's face, his eye shining with unshed tears. "But now I know. To be a good—no, to be a truly _great_ father—all I need do is love…" he placed a trembling hand on the Doctor's chest, "...as if I had two hearts instead of one."

The Doctor looked down at the hand, his hair hiding his eyes. Chichiri saw him swallow hard—once, twice—before covering the magician's hand with his own. He tried to speak…coughed…and tried again. "In all my years…" the velvet tenor was very soft, "…that's perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Green-blue eyes met his, emotion shining from their depths. "And of all my companions, you have been one of the most… Perhaps _the_ most—" the voice broke, unable to continue.

Chichiri took pity on the Doctor and drew him into an embrace. Although they were nearly the same height, he felt a sudden shifting of scale, as if he held the vastness of time and space in his arms…yet at the same time, a delicate being as fragile as a bird. He inhaled the Doctor's scent—ozone and sandalwood and the alien scent that he now called stardust—and closed his eye as he tried to memorize how it felt to be close to this man: infinite compassion and wisdom encased in a frail human/Gallifreyan shell.

He memorized the feel of velvet and silk, the sense of the alien and the familiar, and knew that it was time to let go. Moving his face deeper into the soft brown-gold waves, he whispered a few last words into the time lord's ear. Finished with saying all that he needed to say, he stepped back…and let his friend go.

The Doctor looked down at the ground, staring blankly at the dust for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet Chichiri's compassionate gaze. He gave a brief nod in acknowledgment of his friend's words, smiling a sad, crooked smile at his inability to speak the same.

"You don't need to say it," Chichiri murmured reassuringly. "Everything you do, everything you are…speaks more than any words could ever say."

The Doctor turned away abruptly, taking a few steps towards the TARDIS—then stopped, standing utterly still. Suddenly he whirled around, reaching his companion in a few short strides. Chichiri had a brief glimpse of the Doctor's expression crumpling in grief before he was pulled tight against the time lord's hearts.

The Doctor stroked the fine silvery-blue hair for the last time, then leaned in, whispering into his companion's ear. Stepping back, he smiled at Chichiri, once more in control of himself. "Sometimes you _do_ need to say the words," he murmured.

Chichiri watched the Doctor walk to the TARDIS and pause briefly before the doors, turning to look back at him once more before disappearing inside. The blue light atop the box began to flash, and with a final wheezing groan, the TARDIS vanished from his sight.

Like a dream. A beautiful, ephemeral dream that nevertheless had the power to change an entire life.

Suzaku no Seishi Chichiri turned and walked through the monastery gates.

* * *

Inside the TARDIS, across a short distance in time and space, Joss propped her hands against the console as she leaned towards the small figure on the viewscreen. Her gaze lingered on his form until it disappeared from sight.

"Do you think he's going to be all right?" she asked anxiously.

"All right?" The Doctor stepped up beside her, his eyes shining with emotion and his entire form bursting with paternal pride.

"He's going to be _magnificent!"_

* * *

_  
Fin_

* * *

**Credits:** The transdimensional message cube is the creation of Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman, as described in their Eighth Doctor novel, "Vampire Science."

I came across the Buddhist saying, "One inch ahead, and all is total darkness," from the spectacular story by Shunyata Ryuen called "One Inch Ahead." For all of you FY fans who may be craving a Chichiri fix, and who have somehow missed this profound and emotional story—Go Read This! It's listed on my author profile under "Favorite Stories."

XxX

**Author notes: (2-16-05) **First of all, to CG: Happy Birthday, Little Sis!

And now…

Hard to believe, isn't it? After two years and seven months, I have finally come to the conclusion of "Bridge Over The Abyss." Of course, in my usual way, I'm not quite finished with Bridge as yet—there's still an Epilogue and an, um, _alternate_ project that I will tell you about later.

Before I go any further, though, I must try to convey my overwhelming gratitude to each and every one of you, readers and reviewers alike. I had never expected your dedicated support over so many years, especially when I pushed you into places that you probably never expected FY fanfiction to go.

I don't think that there's ever been a fanfic author who has blithely demanded _so much_ from her readers in a single fic. I started out by introducing a crossover character right in the second chapter, then shoved away the fantasy aspects of Fushigi Yuugi in favor of some spaced-out sci-fi explanations of the Universe of the Four Gods. Next, I introduced an original character as a major player in the fic, and again, simply expected you to accept her. I didn't hesitate to throw in canonical references to nearly all of the gaiden novels, and when I decided that I didn't like canon, I made up my own background histories for the characters.

Instead of sex or star-crossed romance, I threw philosophy and horror and "tragic back stories" at you for nearly two straight years, only returning to romance in the second-to-last chapter. I think I must have broken nearly _every _rule for "How to please the FY fanfic readership"—and yet you responded with the most profound, insightful, and intelligent reviews that it has ever been any author's honor to receive.

You have all spoiled me for life, ya know! :P

I wish that I could name each and every one of you, but I'm sure that the Powers-That-Be have some rule against it—or if they don't at the moment, they'll probably make one up. There are a few people that I absolutely _have_ to mention by name, though: The FY Authors' Group, particularly Ryuen, Purple Mouse, Kryssa, and Chichiri's Girl, whose reviews made me laugh and cry and who also inspired me to take crazy chances. Some of the most comprehensive, insightful, and wonderfully critical reviews came from Dee-chan (It's the Dee), Zolac-no-Miko, Anonymous Celebrity, Mirth, Methodic Madness, Tenshi Kitsune, Spak-chan, Riverwood, Otaku-no-miko, Chibi-Kaz, Etrurielle, Otaku-no-Pitcher—oh, God, I can't list all of you but I wish I could!

I also have to make special mention of the "Doctor Who Fandom-only" writers: Drox and Jack-of-the-Pelt. We encountered one another on other websites, and they generously followed me here to let me know how the story sounded to non-Fushigi Yuugi readers. Drox and Jack—your input has meant more to me than I can possibly express. You have my gratitude forever.

Also, many thanks to the FY authors who had been Doctor Who fans all along, letting me know that I wasn't completely insane for mixing fantasy anime with British sci-fi: Mirth (who had been cheering me on from the beginning, when I had first proposed this fic at the end of White Stones), kyanos, Babbling Brook—and anyone else I may have overlooked out of spaciness, not out of ingratitude!

Furthermore, I am indebted to the people who dropped in for just a single review or who stayed for only a short while: your kind words inspired me to keep going.

Well, I think the pre-recorded music's playing, telling me that my Oscar Acceptance speech is getting beyond boring :P, so I'd better wrap this up.

Future Directions: Yes, there is an Epilogue. But don't expect the warm fuzzies; we're leaving Emotional Bridge behind to segue into canon Fushigi Yuugi and of course, the Sequel, Hidden Paths on a Cloud-cast Night. Oh, God, I _finally_ get to return to Hidden Paths! _Yatta!_ Oh—and for any of you who wonder _why_ certain things occurred in Bridge…there might possibly be a _very short_ author note section attached to that Epilogue. :P

Fi-nal-ly…ahem. A small portion of the Bridge readership has let me know of their dissatisfaction with the Doctor being, er, shut out, so to speak, from the action in Chapter Twenty. Some un-named person (coughmousechancough) has even coined a term for the hoped-for inclusion of the Doctor, naming it "Level Five Interaction." So…it's _just possible_ that I could be persuaded to write an, er, addendum to Chapter Twenty that will rectify these wrongs.

In fact, it's _just possible_ that such an addendum is already in progress. However…after a few initial forays, it has become clear that said addendum cannot be posted on this site, due to its NC-17 content. No, I don't intend to get scurrilously graphic; I'm rating the addendum NC-17 due to the unusual nature of the interactions, not in the normal curve so to speak. So if such addendum were to be posted, it would be either on A-dul-tFfdot net; possibly on Med-minrdot org or on the Fanfic refugees website (as soon as we get an "age access" window.) (Sorry for the weird spellings, but there seems to be some weird editing out of other site names here.) You may, _if you are of age,_ look for it in the future under the title "Burning Bridges." :P I will also put up a notice on my author page when I finally post it.

Not that being of age means that you'll automatically want to read it. This scene veers so far from "canonical Bridge" and the balance of the relationships between the three protagonists that I _highly_ discourage anyone reading it who feels it will undermine their affection for Bridge. This is just for the few who are interested in this "alternate universe" possibility between the characters.

Enough said. Shut up and go home, Roku. :P I hope to see you all at the Epilogue-and at the sequel, Hidden Paths!

Thank you, with much love and affection. (bows deeply)

Love,

Roku


	22. Epilogue Hidden Paths

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, the plotline, as well as all original characters in this story, do belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

This chapter is rated M for adult content.

XxX

**Epilogue. Hidden Paths**

A small square of paper fluttered along the dirt road bordering the fields outside town. Farmers and field hands headed homeward, ignoring the paper that skittered between their feet as they trudged wearily through the lengthening shadows. Finally the pamphlet caught on the rough material of a farmer's trousers, flapping against his leg. He bent and picked it up, scanning the ornate writing while his neighbor looked over his shoulder.

"Whatcha got there, Chen?"

The farmer grunted and waved the paper. "Stupid frolics for the lazy rich."

"Aiiiie-yah! Don't you want to go to the play, Chen?" His neighbor, Guan Ho, laughed and minced along, waving his dirt-caked hands in absurdly elegant gestures.

The other farmers looked up and grinned. Guan Ho was still young enough to have energy to joke at the end of a long day.

Chen snorted. "Oh yeah. I want to spend my rest hours sitting with the rich folks while they—" He pantomimed taking a sip from a tiny cup with one hand while pumping the other crudely at his crotch.

The field workers burst out laughing as Chen crumpled the pamphlet and flung it away. The sound of their weary good humor dispersed in a sudden gust of wind, the air current carrying the pamphlet swirling high above them.

A short time later, the paper fell to earth again in an open field, almost at its point of origin. It rolled for a few meters before being crushed into the dirt by a stout boot.

The man stomped onward, too absorbed in balancing two-meter lengths of board on his shoulders to notice any bits of paper in his way. He flung the boards down in a pile, and soon the sound of hammering joined the sickly sweet smell of sawdust that wafted around the circle of garish wagons.

Set apart and back from the others was a small wagon with paint peeling from its rough wood. It rocked rhythmically in the fading light, as if it were being pulled along a bumpy road—but its wheels never left their ruts and no horses stood in the empty traces.

One of the stage hands smirked over at the distant wagon. "Boss is breakin' in the new kid," he guffawed, and coarse laughter from his fellow workers rolled out into the evening air.

_"Urusai!"_ snarled a woman walking past, her cheap, gaudy robes trailing in the dust. Deep lines marred the corners of her downturned mouth, impossible to conceal even beneath her heavy white makeup. "If he hears you, you can expect to get a taste of his attention—and you all remember what that feels like, right?"

The stage hands turned away, muttering under their breath. A grumbled curse of "You bitch, Shinju!" reached her ears.

"Yeah, go ahead and call me a bitch, Goro, you stupid shit. But from what I remember, _you_ were his bitch long after I was!"

Goro flushed and shot her a crude gesture, ignoring the snickers from his mates.

Shinju returned the gesture with interest, then glared at the rest of the men. "Now get to work and finish building that stage…or you can expect him to take it out of your hides."

She looked away from the sullen workers, her eyes fixing on the wagon with an expression both bitter and sad. Nori, that sadistic bastard, had a driving need to defile anything innocent or beautiful; she'd had her own firsthand experience of that. But sympathy was an emotion the powerless could not afford, so Shinju continued on her way, forcing the image of the boy's delicate, haunted features from her mind.

Inside the wagon, the man called Nori increased his rhythm, ignoring the boy's indrawn gasp of pain, then expelled himself with a deep grunt of satisfaction. Now satiated, he roughly pushed the boy from him, sending him sprawling across the floor. Something loathsome in him reveled in the sight of the blood trickling down the boy's pale thighs, the purple fingermarks staining his white shoulder. He sneered as the boy tried to pull his robes up over his bruised nakedness.

"Not a half-bad piece of ass," he slurred, wiping a line of drool from his chin. "Ya done all right, kid—though what was that ya called out? Shou-ry-uu? What the hell does that mean, anyway?"

The boy's face was hidden by his long, dark hair as he crouched low in servile obeisance. His voice was a trembling whisper. "It means 'Rising Dragon,' Master Nori. It's…it's an expression from my village, a…compliment to your manhood."

"Hah!" Nori huffed out a breath that reeked of garlic and sour beer. "Risin' Dragon, is it? Ya know how ta respect yer betters, unlike others around here. Tell ya what," he said, hitching his trousers up around a heavily muscled torso gone to fat. "Jus' fer knowing how ta talk, I'm gonna letcha go onstage tonight." He nodded as the boy crouched lower.

"Thank you, Master. I'm very grateful, Nori-sama."

"Yeah, just shut up and getcher makeup on. You can show me how grateful ya are tonight, after the show." Snorting at his own joke, Nori slammed the door on his way out.

The boy waited a few moments longer, then rose painfully to his feet, wiping at the tears that ran down his face. He tried to clean himself with a coarse rag that sat beside a basin of water, stopping when he realized that he was scrubbing his skin hard enough to draw blood. Seating himself before a dim, cracked mirror set above a crude table, he lifted a horsehair brush and dipped it into one of the pots of facepaint. He drew a sweeping line across his cheekbones, as Shinju had shown him earlier in the day.

"Black is for loyalty," he whispered, drawing another stroke to join the first. "I can be loyal, Shouryuu. I _was_ loyal to you—until you betrayed me. Now you don't deserve my loyalty."

"Blue is for trickery." Another sweeping line from temple to cheekbone, just above the black. "I have a great destiny before me, Shouryuu. I'm a Celestial Warrior of Seiryuu—and I could've brought you with me into my glory. But you were too stupid to understand—and now you're dead.

"I saw it. I saw the school collapse on you. There was nothing left—and you never came out. I watched and waited, but…" The hand trembled, scattering drops of blue facepaint across the table. "So as far as I'm concerned, you can burn in Hell!"

The boy dropped the brush on the table, fighting to stifle his sobs. After a few moments, he regained control, lifting another brush and dipping it into the tiny pot of gold paint. "Gold…for accents." He touched the brush in delicate strokes around his eyes and mouth. "I have a great destiny, Shouryuu. Someday I'll find someone. And he'll be better-looking than you, and taller, and more powerful, too! And—and he'll never use me the way you used me, and he'll love me the way you said—the way I loved— He'll love _me!_"

The strange painted face stared back at the boy from the mirror, the dark-rimmed eyes swimming with tears. "Something's wrong," he whispered. "I did something wrong." And the tears spilled over, smearing black into blue, washing away the gold.

"I forgot the white base makeup! I forgot!" the boy sobbed. He wept into his hands, his tears trickling black and blue and gold through his fingers.

After a while, the sobs died away. The boy picked up the rag and scrubbed at his face until it shone pink and raw. Dipping his fingers into the pot of white paint, he covered every inch of skin on his face and throat. He stared at the ghostly visage in the mirror.

"You see, Shouryuu? I can start again. No matter what happens to me, I can always…start again."

He lifted the brush once more. "Black…is for loyalty."

XxX

The young monk Kiyoshi dismounted in the center of town and hurried through the drizzling rain towards the Temple of the Four Gods. Dodging the water streaming from its curved roof, he ducked through the elaborately carved doors. Once inside, he removed his bamboo kasa and shook his light brown hair from his eyes—then froze in place.

Something was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong. Instead of the warm, golden glow of lamplight and the fragrance of sacred incense, the temple seemed still, cold...dead. The place practically reeked of death, the same way it had the night the strange girl had shown up mortally wounded on their doorstep, gasping out a story of a demon attack on the secret school of the magicians.

This had been a year of ill luck for the Temple of the Four Gods, starting with the disastrous exorcism in the spring. The death of the possessed innocent Toumo, the suicide of the young exorcist Shouryuu, followed by news of the attack on the school of the mages—it seemed as if _jaki,_ an evil aura, had hung over the town and concentrated its malignant influence on the holy place in its midst.

Kiyoshi whirled around at a sound behind him. To his relief, he saw his brother monk standing there, bearing a lamp. He realized that he'd half-feared to find the entire order lying slain in their beds—but here was Brother Ichiro, coming to greet him as was his custom.

"Ichiro-san, what is happening here? I thought—!"

"Oshou-sama wishes to see you," Ichiro intoned in a flat, dead voice. He wore a cloak with the hood pulled up so that it shaded his eyes. Turning away, he beckoned Kiyoshi to follow.

Kiyoshi frowned, his relief shading back into apprehension. "What's wrong, Ichiro? Usually I can't get you to stop chattering, but now… And why is the Temple so dark and quiet?" For some reason, his feet refused to follow the other monk.

The hooded figure paused and tilted his head, as if listening to a distant sound—then turned back to Kiyoshi, bearing a strained smile under the hood. "I am sorry. I have been ill. We have all been ill. The girl who died here bore a strange disease."

"So she ended up dying?" Kiyoshi's voice was tinged with regret, but he wasn't surprised. He had no idea how the girl had found the strength to drag her tattered body all the way from the school to the town. In his opinion, she should have died instantly from wounds that looked as if they'd been inflicted by the razor teeth of a demon beast. But Oshou-sama himself had tended to the girl, murmuring prayers and healing sutras long through the night.

How tragic that she had been infected with a contagious disease as well. Kiyoshi felt a shiver pass through his frame, and before he knew it, he was following Brother Ichiro through the darkened corridors in the shrine.

"Did Oshou-sama fall ill as well?" he asked anxiously.

Ichiro tilted his head once more and paused before answering. "No…but he grows weary from meditating day and night to drive the illness from the temple."

Kiyoshi had no time to ask anything more before Ichiro stopped before the door to Oshou-sama's quarters. Ichiro motioned him into the room, following him and closing the door firmly.

For a moment, Kiyoshi had to fight an impulse to bolt from the room—but he soon felt ashamed, for there was nothing more frightening before him than the tiny figure of the Master of the Monastery caught deep in meditation; eyes closed, legs crossed, and palms pressed together.

Yet…

The lamps were turned down low, but even in the dim light, Kiyoshi could swear that the tiny monk was levitating above the surface of his bed. He had never seen Oshou-sama levitate before…but wasn't levitation one of the powers of the holy pilgrims from the shrouded West? Why should it frighten him, if it were a power that showed the deep spiritual strength of the meditator?

"Kiyoshi-san."

The young monk jumped at the unaccustomed raspiness of the monk's voice. "H-hai, Oshou-sama?"

"What news do you bring?"

Kiyoshi fought back his shudders and tried to concentrate on the details of his mission. "As you'd asked, I rode out to the school of the warrior-magicians. I spoke with some of the students who were fleeing from the battle. What the girl told us was true—there _had _been a battle between Magus and a demon-possessed former student. Some said that it was his apprentice Shouryuu, but how could that be true? Hadn't Shouryuu drowned himself months ago?"

"Perhaps," rasped the Master. "Or perhaps he disappeared because he had fallen under the influence of a demon. It is difficult to predict all of the ramifications of the failed exorcism."

Kiyoshi grimaced. Could this be possible? Could that accursed exorcism have had such tragic and far-reaching effects?

"Go on, Kiyoshi-san. Did you find any trace of Magus or—Shouryuu?"

"No, Oshou-sama. The school had been utterly destroyed. There was no trace of anyone's ki under all that rubble." Kiyoshi shook his head. "No one could have survived that collapse, man or demon."

The tiny monk suddenly opened his eyes and stared straight at him. For a moment, Kiyoshi could have sworn that Oshou-sama's narrow eyes flared yellow in the dim light, and his heart leapt into his throat. He felt the overwhelming impulse to bolt again, but Ichiro-san stood behind him, blocking his way out of the room.

Oshou-sama suddenly smiled at Kiyoshi, showing tiny, even teeth. "You have done well, my son," he rasped in a strangely androgynous voice. "You have been of great use—and shall be of even greater use in the future."

The young monk bowed silently, anxious to leave the room, when suddenly an iron hand seized his shoulder. Brother Ichiro held him tightly in place, and before Kiyoshi could struggle or even cry out, Oshou-sama was unexpectedly hovering directly before him. Kiyoshi's eyes went wide in horror as he finally saw the changes in the old monk. His aged wrinkles were gone, leaving him with a deceptively young and childlike appearance—except for the ancient evil in his snakelike eyes. In his forehead was embedded a jewel that shone with a roiling, reddish light.

Kiyoshi screamed as he suddenly felt a wrenching, searing pain inside his head. He howled in agony as his soul was ripped from his body, leaving behind a corpse that stood obedient to his demon master's command.

"Brother Ichiro," rasped the demon monk. "Take Kiyoshi-san to join his brothers and prepare to close down the temple. We shall depart tomorrow for Sairou; there are too many people here who know the ways of the former Master of this place."

Ichiro threw a cloak across Kiyoshi's shoulders and pulled the hood forward to conceal his dead, empty eyes. Bowing to Oshou-sama, he turned and led his compatriot from the room.

The demon monk hovered above the floor, his eyes dark with thought.

"Dead, are you, Shouryuu? Somehow, I don't quite believe that. It seems a favorite trick of yours, staging your own death." The cold, dead lips lifted in a sneer. "Nor am I that easily destroyed; my god sees to that. But I have a promise for you, Shouryuu. If you are alive in this world, I will find you again.

"Then I, Seiryuu no Seishi Miboshi," the voice dropped into a vicious, hissing whisper, "will make you weep tears of blood."

XxX

Thousands of light years and at least twenty dimensional shifts away, a multijointed appendage paused above a translucent, pulsing membrane that covered tubular structures resembling veins. The appendage stroked the membrane in a pensive manner, seeming to feel out the fluids that ebbed and flowed through the veins. Suddenly the appendage shifted to one side, and its owner arched its back, sending a sharp tail spike whipping over its head to plunge into the membrane below.

The membrane burbled and shrilled in agony, yielding up its analysis of the data fed into it to the creature that had just impaled it. After the last bit of data had been spat out, the creature withdrew its tail spike, leaving the injured slave beneath it keening in pain.

The creature ignored the organic computational slave, instead focusing its four-part brain on studying the data. As always, one part of its brain remained attuned to the commands issued from the hive center of the mothership. The other parts drew on the collective logic circuits of the hive as well as feeding on the stores of psychic energy parasitized from innumerable races, many of whom were now extinct.

The data were accurate. The faint energy fragments detected by their deep space probe had originated from a psychic blast in an unmapped dimension. The creature paused. Even with their sophisticated methods of triangulation, it would take multiple standard solar rotations before they pinpointed the source of the blast.

However, the fragments were of the purest and most powerful form of psychic energy, a form that could feed all colony functions for a minimum of two hundred rotations. This valuable resource was a worthwhile goal, in spite of the fact that the probability data whispered of significant danger in attacking a species that possessed such raw power. There was a zero-point-one percent chance of colony annihilation: the highest risk factor that they had observed in nearly five hundred rotations.

The creature sent the data analyses and attendant concerns to the hive center. Yet it was attuned enough to the hive mentality to anticipate the final decision.

The hive center would order them to carefully sift through the dimensions until they found the energy source, then send in their bioengineered gathering beasts for the initial forays. The beasts would harvest the younger, more vulnerable members of the target species before attempting to capture the more powerful members. Once the risk factors were eliminated, they would implement their usual invasion and collection strategy.

The commander of the Swarm mothership relaxed his outer appendages and nestled deeper into his command module as he awaited the official decision.

It was a clean and logical plan. All that was needed to locate the target world was time—and time was one resource the hive did not begrudge.

They had all the time in the universe.

XxX

_Fin_

Xxx

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

Urusai! - Shut up!

Jaki - evil aura

Oshou-sama – "Master;" respectful term of address for a Buddhist monk

XxX

**Author Note: (4-4-05)** Oooooohh, brrrrr, scary!

Hello, Bridge fans! Toughest bit of scifi to get through yet, ne? Unless, of course, you've read Chapter 6 of Hidden Paths. Yeah, that "Tasuki-vs-the-Black-Beasts" section was a bit technical...but back to this story: Sorry for my long absence, but along with the usual work insanity, I've been risking my neck on the ski slopes of Park City, Utah. Luckily, neck is still intact, as are larger regions further south, so I have returned to post the Bridge Epilogue! Actually, I also returned to be confronted with this funky new rating system. I'm a "M" author, huh? Makes me think of "Mmmmmm." "This Fic Rated M for Mmmmm." I think I like it! :P

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed the Epilogue…well, "enjoyed" might be the wrong verb, but maybe we'll just say you found it interesting. I'm pretty sure I surprised most of you with some character revelations, but some of you might have known Kurayami's identity all along.

Okay, before I go any further, I AM gonna do a "shout-out" to all you thoughtful reviewers of Chapter 21. As always, the faithful Purple Mouse and Ryuen…Ryu-chan, your review made me cry! Jack, Riverwood, Jessica Wolfe, Fire Senshi, Eikou—thanks so much for the warm words of encouragement. Carol and CG—made ya cry, eh? Well, I made myself cry as well; I hated saying goodbye to the Doctor! Dee-chan, Tenshi Kitsune, Otaku Pitcher: thanks again for your wonderful, insightful and comprehensive reviews. Wow, Otaku, I am waaaay flattered by Bridge being your favorite FY fanfic ever; high praise indeed! Etrurielle and Dragonheart; thanks for the kind words, aaaand—I'll answer your questions in the next paragraph. Finally to my two newest Bridge reviewers, Cheeto and Aynslesa: welcome aboard, and thanks so much for your input! I'm always happy to see new faces, especially those of long-time readers.

Okay, now for the questions…well, all I can say to those of you who are going to miss Joss and the Doctor is: there IS a sequel to Bridge, you know. You might have heard of it: Hidden Paths on a CloudCast Night. :P And I'm going _right back there_ as soon as I post this Epilogue. How does that answer your questions? Well, think about what the word "sequel" means—then wait and see.

Now I know that I promised you an interesting addendum to the Epilogue, but I've been falling behind (as well as falling on my behind.) Someday, perhaps, when my other responsibilities back down a bit (yeah, hah!), I may be able to get to it. But until then, I'm going to work on Hidden Paths and my original work, and I hope to see you all on this site again soon!

Till then, take care

Ja ne!

Roku


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